


Rule of Thirds

by marleymars



Series: The Rule of Thirds Platinum Collection [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awkward Boners, Canonical Past Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Use of Lenny Face, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, One Horny Boy, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 156,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9611441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marleymars/pseuds/marleymars
Summary: Prompto bumbles through life and maybe falls in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a self-indulgent AU where there's no daemons or Starscourge and the empire got fucking wrecked so there's no war and everything is mostly happy fluff, but y'know. I'm a bad person so now there's gonna be some angst. ¯\\_(ツ)_/ ¯
> 
> On the flip side it starts out cheesy and fluffy and they're also gonna fuck at some point.
> 
> (Some of the lore probably doesn't make sense in this context but I do what I want.)

Camera in hand, Prompto stepped out onto the roof of the building, lip caught between his teeth. Technically--and legally, too--he wasn't supposed to be up here, but when had minor details ever stopped him? The sun was setting, casting rays of red and orange and pink across the sky, onto the sparse clouds, and--he'd seen it all from the window of Noct’s apartment and he was running out the door with his camera before he could give it a second thought.

There was a brick on the ground by the door, probably left there by the last person who wasn't supposed to be out here. Prompto used it to prop the heavy door ajar and then moved across the roof, gravel crunching beneath his shoes.

The barrier at the edge of the roof was waist high, just perfect for Prompto to lean a hip against to balance himself. Camera switched on, lens fitted, he raised the viewfinder and snapped a few shots, adjusting the scope for distance between each click. Insomnia blazed beneath the dying rays, the jagged, glittering skyline the perfect subject. From where he stood he could see the Citadel towering in the distance, quiet and peaceful.

Taking a few steps back from the wall, he adjusted the aperture before taking a few additional shots of the palace. So focused was he that he didn't realize he was no longer alone until he heard a voice sound behind him.

“You realize you aren't supposed to be out here?”

Prompto squeaked and spun around--he would have dropped his camera if it hadn't been strapped around his neck. Standing by the door, one fine brow raised, was Ignis, Noct’s friend and advisor from the Citadel.

Putting a hand over his stuttering heart, Prompto blew out a breath and said, “Jeez, Ignis, you almost had me jumping off the roof there.”

He thought he saw the barest twitch at the corner of Ignis’s mouth, but then it was gone. Still, his tone was wry when he said, “Surely you're not that skittish.”

“Maybe we haven't been properly introduced: I'm Prompto, the guy who jumps at his own shadow,” he said with a somewhat sheepish grin of his own. It had really only been the one time when he'd gotten up in the middle of the night without bothering to put his glasses on. And with his eyesight, no glasses--or contact lenses for that matter--made shadows look a lot like burglars.

“To answer your question, though,” Prompto continued, “Yeah I figured I shouldn't be out here, but...look.” He shrugged, helpless, as he turned and gestured to the view. All right, maybe it wasn't the best view in the city, but at the right moment it was still pretty damn impressive. Prompto just hoped he had gotten some decent shots before being interrupted. Now that he had such serious company, he felt almost bashful about his enthusiasm.

“The city is rather lovely at sunset,” Ignis allowed, coming to stand beside Prompto. “You were taking pictures?”

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto said, picking his camera up off his chest to fiddle with the lense. “I, uh, I'm working on my portfolio.”

Ignis made a sound of interest. Prompto fidgeted, feeling the other man's gaze on him. This had to be the longest conversation he and Ignis had ever had, at least with just the two of them together. Without Noct there, it was...not awkward, but something like it.

“So what brings you up here?” Prompto blurted, just to have something to say.

“Ah. I was bringing some things over for Noct. I saw you go dashing up the stairs just as I reached his floor. Then, seeing as how His Highness was asleep,” this part was said with a definite eye roll, “I thought I'd come and see what you were up to.”

“He's kind of pathetic, isn't he?” Prompto said without thinking. It was only seven at night, and Noct had dozed off twenty minutes ago while they were watching a movie. Prompto had stuck a piece of popcorn in one of Noct’s nostrils, and taken a quick photo. He grimaced inwardly, knowing Ignis must have seen that and known who was responsible.

Thankfully, Ignis took the statement without offense. “In that he can barely keep his eyes open if he's been seated for more than five minutes? Yes, very.”

Prompto snorted a laugh. Ignis had such a dry way with words; he could make the simplest statement come off with the perfect amount of flat sarcasm. Over the admittedly little amount of time they'd spent in each other's company, Prompto had realized Ignis was a lot funnier than most people seemed to pick up on. Yeah, the guy was still majorly reserved and could come off as downright cold and severe, but hey.

He is pretty damn hot, though.

What? Who said that?

Swallowing hard, Prompto looked back down at his camera. Wasn't like he hadn't thought it before, but it was just an idle fancy. Ignis was an advisor to the future king, and Prompto was the future king's goofy best pal. Not exactly in the same league, even if they did sort of run together.

“At any rate, I thought I'd whip up something for dinner while I was here,” Ignis said, smiling slightly at Prompto’s dorky laughter, “Will you be joining us?”

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” Prompto had never had a chance to eat Ignis’s cooking fresh. If the leftovers he'd scavenged from Noct’s fridge were anything to go by, though, Ignis was, like, super legit in the kitchen. Pro level, even. Prompto so rarely got to eat a decent, home cooked meal unless he pulled something together himself. While he thought he was passable--he'd never burned down the house or given himself food poisoning--it wasn't always enjoyable.

Noct was--predictably--still asleep when they returned to his apartment. Prompto barked a laugh when he saw Ignis had left the popcorn where it was, and took another picture. _He's gonna be furious when he wakes up,_ Prompto thought.

Ignis was unconcerned, or seemed that way. The “things” he'd brought over were groceries. Come to think, Prompto hadn't ever seen Noct do any food shopping for himself. Not unless they stopped to buy junk food. “Do you really buy all his groceries for him?” Prompto asked as Ignis unloaded the paper shopping bags.

“Are you surprised by that?” was Ignis’s reply.

“I...no, I guess not,” Prompto said, a tad ruefully. He knew Ignis did a lot for Noct; kept track of his schedule, cleaned up after him, watched him like a hawk, and apparently also made sure Noct didn't die of malnutrition. Left to his own devices, Noct probably wouldn't last a week. Prompto had teased him about that before, but hadn't really realized it might be truer than he thought.

It wasn't like Noct was completely helpless. He was just, well, a prince. Everyone around him had always been ready to jump in and do everything for him, and he'd just grown numb to it all. He wasn't purposely taking advantage of those around him; he honestly just didn't know any better, or anything different.

Even after five years of friendship, there were still little moments of culture shock like this between them. Prompto wasn't sure he'd ever be able to deal with having someone else run his life for him the way Ignis did for Noct. But he could tell Ignis didn't just do it out of some sense of obligation. He did it because Noct was his oldest friend, and they genuinely cared for each other.

Still.

Prompto felt a little bit useless after he'd stowed his camera away. Noct would be irritated if Prompto woke him up, and Prompto couldn't help but fidget on the couch while he listened to Ignis moving around in the kitchen. After only a few minutes, he jumped to his feet and moved to the doorway.

“Need something?” Ignis asked when he saw Prompto just standing there like a complete goober.

“Uh, well, I was just wondering--do you need any help?”

If anything, Ignis seemed surprised by the offer. “I think I have things well in hand, but thank you for offering,” he replied, not unkindly.

“Oh.” Prompto felt oddly deflated, and stood there a moment longer than he probably needed to.

“However, if you're that eager…,” Ignis trailed off, looking thoughtful. “You can operate a blender, I presume?”

Prompto could, of course, easy. Even if he'd never used one before he'd have figured it out quickly enough. But that was how he wound up pureeing vegetables for Ignis, which Ignis informed him would be going into the sauce he currently had boiling on the stove. Noct would not be amused if he found out Ignis was secretly slipping him vegetables, and Prompto had to swear not to tell him.

“Call it a state secret,” Ignis said to him, voice low, and Prompto found himself snickering at Ignis’s mock-serious tone.

Noct woke up just as Ignis was wrapping things up on the stove, stumbling into the kitchen to get himself a soda from the fridge. He punched Prompto lightly in the back in retaliation for the whole popcorn thing, and Prompto pouted at him until he rolled his eyes.

“What if I just decided one day to sell all the embarrassing pics I have of you to a tabloid or something?” Prompto would never, and they both knew it.

“I'd warp-strike your ass into next week, that's what,” Noct said.

“I'd think that's called abuse of power.”

“Nobody would blame me for it.”

Prompto made an offended noise, and would have knocked the can of soda out of his hands if Ignis hadn't cut in. “I think that's enough of that. Prompto, set the table, would you?”

“Is Gladio coming over?” Prompto asked as he moved to obey.

“Not tonight. He's out with his sister,” Ignis said.

Dinner was great. Dinner was friggin unbelievable. Prompto had eaten at a few fancier restaurants around town with Noct, but now the food at those places seemed bland and overpriced in comparison. He told Ignis so--because Prompto had no skill in keeping his thoughts to himself-- and was rewarded with a flustered cough. Recovering quickly, Ignis told him, “That's kind of you to say.”

“Well, it's true,” Prompto insisted, “Right, Noct?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess?”

“Ugh,” Prompto huffed, shaking his head at his friend's lack of enthusiasm. _Spoiled brat_ , he thought, though there was no malice in it. “Ignis, if you ever wanna come be my personal chef, I'm down. I can't pay you with money, but I'll be more appreciative.”

“Tempting,” Ignis mused as Noct glowered at them both.

“Why does this sauce taste like carrots?” Noct demanded suddenly, and Prompto nearly choked. He had to get up and run to the kitchen to hide his laughter. Behind him, he could hear Ignis denying any knowledge of what Noct was talking about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have Grammarly installed for firefox and for some reason it's set to UK English and I can't be bothered to change it. 
> 
> Anyway, these chapters are all gonna be pretty short. I normally write monster chapters but I've been writing this whole thing on my phone with google docs and I can manage about 2k words before I want to eat my phone. Plus I'm writing a big girl original novel and I'm trying not to cut into time for that too much. 
> 
> My point is that I ramble a lot so I'm worried the pacing in the story might be slow with the short chapters. So yeah.

Summer was beginning to settle over Insomnia before Prompto saw Ignis again, at least more than in passing. Ignis was always busy, always moving, and Prompto was the same way, if only because he had too much energy to sit still.

Noct had a part-time job that he showed up to intermittently--he didn't need the money, but he did need the independence. Prompto, on the other hand, had to work. His parents left him money for food and paid the bills, but Prompto was saving up for a photography course at the art school downtown. There was a lot he'd figured out about photography on his own, but he thought having some actual education under his belt would lend legitimacy to his chosen craft.

His parents supported his career choice, though he could tell they didn't get it. A lot of the stuff he did seemed to go over their heads, but they always encouraged him regardless. One time his dad had come home while Prompto was developing pictures in his makeshift darkroom--AKA, their one bathroom--and had opened the door, unwittingly ruining hours’ worth of effort. He'd apologized, but he seemed baffled over why Prompto was bothering with traditional photography when he had a digital camera. Even when Prompto explained that he wanted to experiment with different mediums, Dad had just shrugged and left him to it.

Neither of his folks were artsy types, so he didn't blame them. He made a decent amount of money fixing computers under the table, and he enjoyed losing himself in tinkering. It just didn't pull at him the same way photography did. Prompto wanted his name on something big; he wanted his photos in magazines and hanging in galleries. Most of all, he wanted to travel outside of Insomnia. 

For the most part, he woke up early, usually just after dawn. Some days he'd go for a run, others he'd go out with his camera to get some shots of the city while it was still quiet. There were a few times he'd tried to do both--he'd bring his camera jogging, but the bag would bounce awkwardly around his neck, and he couldn't work up a decent sweat if he had to keep stopping to fumble his camera out. 

Whichever he decided to do was based entirely on how he felt when he rolled out of bed. That morning he sat up, yawning, stretching his arms over his head.  _ Feels like a good day to get some shots in _ , he thought. Sunlight filtered in through his blinds, so he knew it was gonna be nice out, weather-wise. Yep, photography it was. 

He showered and dressed and quickly did his hair--he had it down to a science at this point--then made himself a simple breakfast. By the time he was out the door, it was just past seven. Noct would be disgusted, but Prompto just couldn't lay in bed all day. Part of it was just anxious energy; he needed to be doing something or he'd start getting antsy. 

There was nothing in his neighborhood that he hadn't caught on camera a million times. Maybe he could take the train out to the park across town, get some shots of those flowery trees. He couldn't remember what they were called, but who was gonna know? They just looked nice, and there was always plenty of other stuff to see out that way. 

Plus, he always liked riding the subway. Even though he had to sit still, he could listen to music and space out. Or he could people-watch. The subway system in Insomnia was never short on weirdos. Sometimes, if he asked nicely enough, he'd get some interesting shots with them.

As it turned out, there weren't any weird folks on the train today--well, besides himself. He bought a ticket that would serve for two rides, pushed through the turnstile, and got down to the platform just as a train was pulling into the station. He was still mentally congratulating himself for excellent timing when he took a seat, and immediately recognized the man sitting across the aisle from him.

Impulse nearly had him blurting Ignis’ name, but he managed to bite his tongue. What would he even say to the guy? Ignis was looking at his phone, entirely absorbed, a tight little knot formed between his brow. Probably looking at his schedule. Or Noct’s, rather. The serious expression suited him, intense and focused, fitting well with his aristocratic features.

_ Don't do what you're thinking of doing _ , Prompto told himself. His fingers were already unzipping his camera bag, though. He really had no self-control whatsoever. Ignis just looked particularly photo-worthy, sitting so elegantly with his legs neatly crossed, eyes focused down, clothing looking oddly rumpled. Why was he even on the subway? Dude had an armada of private cars to call on.

Unless he didn't want anybody to see him? Rumpled clothes, hair hastily combed back.  _ Oh. Did my boy have a little fun last night? _ Prompto couldn't picture Ignis of all people doing something as common as having a one night stand. The guy was still human, though. And the dishevelled look wasn't half bad on him, either. It made Prompto’s mind start to wander, wondering what kind of activities exactly could leave Ignis looking less than chic.

_ Whoa there, kid. Control your fucking horniness, okay. _

There weren't that many people in their car, so Prompto didn't feel like too big of a creeper as he raised his camera and lined up a shot. Ignis still hadn't noticed him, but then Ignis probably wasn't expecting to run into anybody he knew this morning. Perfect.

Prompto’s cover was blown as his camera betrayed him, the light snapping open as the flash went off, accompanied by a very noticeable clicking noise. Ah, fuck. Ignis jerked upright, eyes narrowed in bald irritation as he saw who was sitting across from him. 

“Prompto?” There was a note in his voice that was almost accusatory. Caught red-handed, Prompto lowered the camera, expression sheepish.

“H-hey, Ignis,” he said, preparing himself for a scolding. “Fancy meeting you here.”  _ Ugh, idiot _ .

“Did you just take my picture?” Ignis asked, eyes flickering down to the camera now cradled on Prompto’s lap.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Why?”

“Well, it's, uh,”  _ really, dude, why’d you do it? _ “It's kinda my jam?”

Ignis’s frown deepened, but instead of demanding that Prompto delete the picture, or asking what the fuck his problem was, he said, “May I see it?”

Blinking, Prompto felt the gears grinding stupidly in his head. “See what?”

“The picture,” Ignis said. He might have been smiling now, only adding to Prompto’s confusion.

“Oh, ah, sure?” Prompto said, trying not to blush. He stood and stepped across the aisle, dropping uncertainly into the seat next to Ignis.

“Screen's kinda small, but,” he shrugged, turning the camera so Ignis could see. The flash going off had sort of ruined the shot. Ignis was posed perfectly, but the lighting was too stark. 

“Not bad,” Ignis said as he pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “Though might I suggest next time you give me a little forewarning?”

Prompto felt his mouth sliding into a grin. “That would kinda defeat the purpose. I wanted to catch you looking natural.”

“Haggard and uncaffeinated isn't exactly my natural state,” Ignis remarked with a weary sigh.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, “What's up with that, by the way?”

Ignis gave him a sidelong look, as if debating telling him anything. Then he sat back in his seat, arms folded over his chest. “Gladio, is what. Occasionally he insists that I need to unwind, and drags me away from my duties. I may have...overindulged. I couldn't drive, so I wound up sleeping on Noct’s sofa. Now I'm en route to pick up my car, if it hasn't been towed. I'm going to be terribly late for work.”

He sounded so put out by that last part that Prompto couldn't help but laugh. “Sorry,” Prompto said at Ignis’ disparaging look, “I've just never seen you pout before.”

“I am not pouting,” Ignis said, stern. “I am...indignant.” Then he seemed to look Prompto up and down, and abruptly changed the subject. “And where are you off to this early?”

“Was gonna hit the park, see what I can see.” Prompto shrugged. “Work’s been kinda slow, so I was gonna make a day of it.”

“I see.” Ignis fell silent for a moment. Then, “You mentioned before that you had a portfolio you were working on. Do you have it with you?”

“Yeah, always,” Prompto said, patting the messenger bag resting at his hip.

“If you're free later, I'd like to have a look at it. We could have lunch. Or coffee, depending on when I can get away from work.” 

Prompto stared at him, not knowing what to say. Aside from Noct and his parents, nobody had ever actually wanted to look at any of his work. The fact that it was Ignis of all people who was asking made something go all light and fluttery in his chest.  _ Cool it, dude. He doesn't mean it like that _ . 

“Seriously?” he finally blurted.

“Yes. Unless you don't want to...?”

“No! I mean, yeah. If you want, yeah, totally. I'm free all day, so just text me whenever.” He couldn't quite mask his excitement at the offer. Ignis handed his phone over so Prompto could input his number; his hands shook slightly while he did it, probably because he was such a huge loser. Anytime someone slightly attractive showed him any attention his idiot brain went and blew a gasket. He didn't harbor any delusions about getting to hang with Ignis, but that didn't stop him being delighted over the prospect. 

“This is my stop,” Ignis said as the train began screeching to a halt. He ran a hand back over his hair, looking wearier than Prompto had ever seen him. Gladio might have gone about it the wrong way, but he was right about Ignis needing to unwind. The guy seriously needed a day off. Or a month.  _ Maybe I should say something to Noct... _ Though Ignis probably wouldn't like anybody going behind his back like that. Prompto wouldn't, if it were him.

“Take it easy,” Prompto said, watching Ignis stand, starting toward the nearest opening door. 

Chuckling ruefully, Ignis shot the barest hint of a smile back over his shoulder. “Unlikely, but I'll try. See you.”

Prompto resisted the urge to wave goodbye like a dweeb. It was gonna be a hell of a long day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloop. The person reading this sentence right now is a totally cool cat *finger guns* Thank you for paying attention to me!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta be honest, I haven't really edited this story very much. I've been sick and delirious almost the whole time I've been working on it, so let me know if you see anything that doesn't make any dang sense.

Most of Prompto’s day was spent with his camera affixed firmly to his face. He wasn't certain that he had a favorite subject matter, so basically anything that caught his eye was fair game. Dogs, cats, birds, children, architecture, clouds, trees, busy streets, weird aesthetic stuff like abandoned buildings, shoes hanging from telephone lines, a raggedy doll lying in the gutter--maybe it was a little eclectic. But why shoehorn himself into one genre when there was so much cool shit to see?

As much as he was looking forward to sharing his work with Ignis, for a while he was able to lose himself. Noct liked to tease Prompto for the way he would become so utterly fixated that he completely lost track of time. Or not realize that somebody was talking to him. Or trip and bust his ass because he wasn't paying attention to where he was putting his feet. He wasn't as concerned with hurting himself as he was with breaking his camera, of course. Buying a new one would set back his school fund quite a bit.

So he tried to pay attention. “Tried” being the operative word. It almost seemed like the next thing he knew after he got to the park was that his phone was vibrating in his pocket. 

When he looked at the screen he saw it was past lunch. His rumbling stomach irritably chimed in at that moment, unappreciative of his neglect. Briefly, he felt a flash of disappointment. Ignis had asked him out to lunch, after all. 

Then he saw that the text he'd just received was from an unknown number.

_ -Sorry I missed you for lunch. Can we meet for coffee at four? This is Ignis, by the way. _

Of course, he'd spell everything out properly. Smiling, Prompto quickly typed a reply; a yes, and a where. Ignis responded less than a minute later with a destination.  _ Don't say “it's a date,” don't you dare. _

_ -Great, see you then. _

Good. He wasn't about to send Ignis screaming for the hills by acting like some silly boy with a crush. Which he wasn't. Ignis was good looking and a nice guy, but Prompto wasn't crushing on him, no way. That'd be totally ridiculous. It took more than few kind words and a pretty face.  _ Oh fuck you, that's exactly all it takes and you know it. _

Well, fine, yeah. But there was no way it would ever be reciprocated. Prompto could deal with being friends, hopefully without making an ass of himself. And he knew it was shallow of him, too; he didn't know that much about Ignis. Didn't know anything really, except that the guy could cook like no motherfucker knew, and could be pretty brutal with the sarcasm. 

It was only just after two, but Prompto became immediately paranoid that if he didn't catch a train right now he'd be late. There was no reason for it, but he headed back toward the subway station as soon as he'd stowed his phone and his camera away. He'd drifted away from the park at some point to explore the surrounding neighborhood, and his camera's battery was starting to run low anyway.    


It took a grand total of forty-five minutes to get to the subway station, wait for a train, and then ride it to the Citadel station. Over an hour early, with nothing to do, Prompto started feeling twitchy. He was starving, so he fished a protein bar out of his bag, figuring he'd get something more substantial to eat later on.

This close to the Citadel there were a lot of city guards around, which made Prompto nervous about loitering. Not wanting to seem suspicious, he drifted through the vendor stands and carts in a nearby plaza. They were mostly for tourists, but he did buy himself a new bracelet to add to his collection. Because he was weak. And it looked cool. The girl who sold it to him helped him strap it to his wrist, flashing him pretty smiles that went straight to his--admittedly small--ego, and touching his hand more than was strictly necessary. Normally he'd have been happier to be so brazenly flirted with, but he felt afterwards that he hadn't been as enthusiastic as he could have. 

_ I'm nervous, _ he realized at 3:46, wondering if he was too early as he checked his hair in the cafe's small bathroom mirror. _ Why am I nervous? _ It was Ignis, right, not a stranger. They were friends, kind of. Even with this budding attraction clouding his senses, Prompto didn't think he had any reason to be worried. It wasn't like Ignis had never heard him say anything stupid before. Prompto always just laughed it off when his mouth got ahead of his brain. He'd gotten over being embarrassed by himself years ago, mostly with the help of Noct. Noctis just didn't seem to mind what a goofball his best friend was. But Noct wasn't here.

By the time he worked up the nerve to leave the bathroom it was a minute past four. No sooner had he done so than he spotted Ignis, standing in line already, scribbling something in a notebook. The guy really never stopped. Well, Prompto was nothing if not a complete nuisance. In high school, he'd perfected the art of distracting his teachers to the point where nobody in the room got any work done. The same principle applied here.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, sidling up to join Ignis in the queue. “What’cha writing? Anything good?”

Ignis finished whatever it was he'd been scrawling down with a flourish as he said, mysteriously, “Just some things I didn't want to forget.” He gave Prompto a cursory glance, “You weren't waiting long, were you?” 

“Who, me? Nah, just got here,” Prompto lied. He looked up at the menu as the line moved forward and tried not to make a face. He hadn't realized this place was going to be one of those high-end coffee houses. Everything on the menu sounded really frilly and fancy, and the prices made him wince inwardly.

Prompto had grown up learning how to cut costs wherever he could, so the thought of splurging always made him uneasy.  _ Why’d I have to go and buy this bracelet again? Because I don't think ahead and it looked pretty, duh. _ And in doing so he'd burned almost all the way through the last of the spending money he allotted himself each week. 

He hung slightly behind Ignis when they finally reached the counter. Ignis took his coffee with milk rather than cream, and no sugar, which Prompto couldn't quite fathom. Coffee was undrinkable to him unless it was at least one part sugar and cream. Sometimes instead of sugar he'd stir in a packet of hot chocolate powder, but the point was he couldn't stand the stuff unsweetened.

“Do you know what you're getting?” Ignis asked, jolting Prompto off his train of thought. 

“Oh, what? Y-you don't have to pay for me, dude, I--,” but Ignis was waving his protests away.

“Nonsense, I invited you here; it's my treat.” The way he said it was absolutely polite and one-hundred percent brooked no argument. Prompto had heard him use that voice on Noct, and it always left the prince grumbling about this or that. For some reason--some mysterious, unknowable reason--Prompto found it had the exact opposite effect on him. Stomach swirling with swooning butterflies, he ordered the simplest thing on the menu. 

He had never had a mocha latte before, and he honestly wasn't sure how he'd ever lived without them. Maybe it was just so good because of the price, or because Prompto was so used to drinking shitty coffee, but either way. He must have thanked Ignis five different times before they sat down, and he swore Ignis was hiding a smile behind his cup.

They made small talk, something Prompto was infamously bad at. Somehow he managed not to completely fumble his words. He decided to chalk it up to the fact that Ignis was deceptively easy to talk to. If they hadn't already known each other, Prompto knew his tongue would be sticking to the roof of his mouth. 

“What is it you do for work, again?” Ignis asked him after a few minutes of companionable chatter. They were seated at a table in the middle of the establishment. Prompto had his legs stretched out under the table, leaning forward on his elbows, while Ignis was reclined and poised. 

“Oh, I do electronics repair on the cheap,” Prompto replied. “Computers mostly, but I can figure out how to patch up anything that runs on batteries or an outlet.” It sounded almost like bragging, he knew, but it was the truth. Once he'd even fixed up an old-timey typewriter, which had been sort of a pain. The customer was so grateful they'd tipped him nearly fifty percent, though. Apparently, the clunky old thing had been a family heirloom.

Ignis made a noise of interest as he sipped at his coffee. “So you're an entrepreneur.”

Prompto snorted a laugh. “No way. I mean I don't have business cards. I used to hang up fliers in high school, but now people just call me out of the blue. I guess it's by word of mouth, but, uh yeah. It's not exactly legit. I don't, ah, I don't pay taxes.” He finished off more quietly than he'd started. 

“Well, you needn't worry that I'll report you to the tax collectors,” Ignis said, amused. “Frankly, I'm impressed. You must be skilled for people to seek you out that way.”

“Oh. I guess.” Heat flushed his cheeks, and he suddenly found the paper sleeve on his cup utterly fascinating. 

Ignis seemed primed to leave Prompto a flustered mess. Before Prompto could try to change the subject, Ignis continued on. “Noct tells me you're rather a talented photographer as well.”

“R-really?” Prompto had thought Noct was pretty jaded over his little hobby by now. 

“Mhmm. I admit I've been curious to see for myself, but I haven't had the chance to ask until now. May I?” 

The thought that Ignis had been wanting to do this for gods knew how long had Prompto’s hands shaking all over again. Sharing his portfolio was suddenly a terrifying prospect. His parents didn’t know anything about photography, but they had to say his work was great. Noct also didn't have an artistic bone in his body, and he had trouble showing enthusiasm for anything that wasn't fishing or video games.

Ignis must have had a discerning eye, otherwise he wouldn't care to go out of his way like this to see some shitty pictures. Prompto briefly contemplated just grabbing his bag and making a run for it. But no.There was no way to back out of this now without looking like a complete doofus.

“Here,” Prompto said, sliding the binder across the table. “It's nowhere near done, and there's a lot of kinda random shots stuffed in there. And I'm gonna buy an actual portfolio at some point.” The binder was bursting with plastic photo-sleeves. He knew he had to narrow it down, but he was too indecisive. Whenever he looked through it he just wound up frustrated.

Watching Ignis flip through the pages was absolutely agonizing. He wasn't just paging casually, either; he studied every picture, making soft humming noises of consideration to himself. Prompto wanted the earth to open beneath his chair and send him tumbling into the abyss.  _ They're awful, I knew it. I'm a hack. An embarrassment. Why did I agree to this? _

Sharing his work with Ignis was like sharing a piece of his soul. Dramatic as that sounded, it was true.  _ Why isn't he saying anything? _ Maybe he was trying to think of a way to spare Prompto’s feelings, maybe--

“These are very good, Prompto,” Ignis said without looking up. 

Prompto, who had been nervously chewing at his thumbnail, went stock still, his hand dropping onto the table. “Yeah?” His blood was ringing in his ears. He wanted to make sure he'd heard correctly. 

“I'm no expert, but I've studied the arts as part of my training. You have an excellent eye,” Ignis said.

_ Good. Excellent _ . Ignis had studied art. Of course he had. Ignis was the royal advisor. He needed to know these things, needed to understand culture and history and art.

Swallowing thickly, Prompto managed a strained, “Thank you.” 

As if sensing that Prompto was about to overload, Ignis looked up with a gentle smile and said, “You're very welcome. Thank you for sharing this with me, Prompto.”

Now Prompto wished the ground would swallow him up for entirely different reasons. His heart was thudding madly in his chest. That smile was going to haunt his dreams in the best possible way.

x

After that, it felt like they'd talked for hours. Or rather, Prompto ran at the mouth and Ignis listened with an indulgent look on his face. They sat the binder on the table, and Ignis asked him questions, “What do you like to shoot? Where did you take this? What do you use for editing?” And Prompto answered every one and more, by the Six.

He felt a little guilty for talking so much about himself, but he was so excited to have someone who  _ got it _ to talk to that he couldn't stop.

They eventually had to part when Ignis got a message from his uncle. Ignis was needed at the Citadel, and he seemed resigned as he tucked his phone away. 

“I had fun,” Prompto blurted, and was rewarded with another glorious smile.

“So did I. I presume I'll see you at Noct’s sooner rather than later, but feel free to message me if you'd like,” Ignis said.

_ Oh, I'd like. _ He had no idea what he'd say, but the prospect was an intriguing one.

He had to buy another train ticket to get home, but Prompto found he didn't care. Leaving Ignis at that coffee house had been disappointing, but Prompto found himself in a very cheerful mood regardless. A part of him warned against being too pleased about the whole thing, but he couldn't help it. There was a warmth in his chest now that couldn't be diminished by self-doubt, not at least while the memory of Ignis’ smile was still fresh.

When he got home he found his mom in the kitchen making a pot of tea. Prompto didn't think he'd seen either of his parents except in passing in over a week.

“Hey mom,” he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said, sounding tired. But not too tired to notice the big, goofy grin plastered across his face. “You look like you're in a good mood.

“Do I?” he said, feigning ignorance when she pressed him for information. “I just had a good day. Got a lot of new pics to go through, y’know?” 

She wasn't buying it, but he asked her how her shift had gone and she launched into a play by play, happily venting all of her frustrations. The hospital sounded like a pretty wild place, to hear her tell it. Prompto appreciated shit-talk as much as the next guy, though, even if he didn't know who most of the people she mentioned were. 

He made himself something to eat as she talked, since he'd completely forgotten to while beset with nerves. _I can't believe he really liked my pictures_. He wanted to gush about it, to tell his mom all about his day, but he didn't think he could take the motherly teasing. She'd know immediately that his feelings towards Ignis were more than friendly--

_ Shit _ . He fumbled his plate, nearly dropping his sandwich on the floor. Then he had to play it off with a laugh and a “clumsy me,” while his mom tutted at him. 

Well, it wasn't like he hadn't known before, he'd just been in denial. After today, though...he couldn't even lie to himself about it anymore. He liked Ignis. Ignis, of all the unattainable people he could possibly be attracted to, it had to be  _ Ignis _ . 

_ Man, I am so screwed. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (-□-)︵* 
> 
> a kiss i blow for you


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about jogging and I never will.
> 
> Also, I figure that if Eos can have Nissin cup noodles (barf) and fxn American Express (extra barf) then it can have good things too like Lucky Charms and maybe Beyoncé. Who’s gonna stop me? I’ll fight Hajime Tabata with my bare hands, I don’t care.

For an entire week, Prompto couldn't think of a single thing worth texting Ignis about. Oh, plenty of stuff popped into his head, but it was all random, all part of his erratic thought process that would surely send any normal person spiraling into utter confusion. _What’s your favorite chocobo color? What do you think starfish dream about? I can’t sleep because I just remembered that time I ripped my pants in the third grade and the renewed humiliation is slowly eating me alive._

Yeah, Noct was the only person he was willing to inflict that sort of nonsense on. And it wasn't like he was about to text Ignis about the weather or something else totally lame, either.

That whole week he didn't see Ignis, so at least he didn't have to face the man he was inadvertently ignoring. Prompto was almost relieved when he hung out with Noct and there was no sign of the advisor. Gladio showed up at Noct’s place a couple of times, though, and they would take turns playing against each other in Noct’s favorite fighting game. Somehow, fighting video games lead to physical wrestling, which resulted in Prompto being put in a headlock by Gladio for over an hour one night. It had still been less awkward than Prompto was beginning to think seeing Ignis again would be.

_I don't want him to think I'm not interested in talking to him. I mean, I also don't want him to know I'm actually interested_ in _him_.

Prompto had had few enough friends in his life that he was utterly at a loss. Noct had been easier somehow. After Prompto’s secret correspondence with Lady Lunafreya, and planning for years how he was going to approach the lonely prince, Prompto had just gone for it. Noct was laid back enough that he'd just accepted Prompto’s overture of friendship without any preamble. It was probably not a normal way to make friends, to just walk up to someone like you already knew them like that and roll with it.

Ignis was already different. Prompto did sort of know him, was already _kind of_ his friend, not that he was sure he deserved even that much. But he couldn't believe they'd have enough in common that Ignis would want anything more than a shallow familiarity. Prompto was just some nobody with more luck than good sense. Surely once Ignis got to know him, to _really_ know him, then Ignis would lose interest. Prompto vacillated over whether it was even worth it or not to set himself up to fall like that, but he always decided on worth it. Definitely worth it. Getting to be close to Ignis for any length of time was better than nothing, right?

_You're overthinking this_. Yes, he knew that, thanks. _Quit being such a baby_. Easier said than done.

The answer, when it came to him, was so laughably simple he could have hit himself.

Saturday dawned, and Prompto woke up restless in spite of the early morning heat. Today was a running day, no question. He needed to burn off the excess energy all this unhelpful overthinking was generating. Without bothering to shower--what was the point when he was about to get gross?--he changed into his totally _not_ dorky running shorts and a tank top.

Outside it was already humid, the air heavy in his lungs. Prompto wasn't a fan of the heat, or the cold, or _any_ kind of weather actually unless it was like sixty degrees exactly. And also not raining. Running in the heat was probably a bad, sweaty idea, but fuck it, he was already out here. Better to get going before it got any hotter out and he ended up melting into the pavement like the world's most disturbing candle.

Prompto had run in worse conditions--blizzards, pouring rain, three in the morning one time when he was _super_ drunk--but he was suffering by the time he'd hit a mile and started homeward. Nobody could have blamed him for stopping to take a breather, and that's exactly what he did.

Slowing from a run to a walk, he put one hand in the small of his back and swiped his sweaty, blond fringe back out of his eyes with the other. Even breathing felt like a chore in this heat; he was sucking in twice as much air, he thought, to compensate for the humidity. That was how science worked, he was pretty sure.

There was a shop across the street, and Prompto knew that if he didn't get himself something to drink before finishing his run he was likely to evaporate. _Poof, no more Prompto, he just burst into a million molecules and got sucked up by a cloud. Now he's the rain._ Yeah, okay, he definitely wasn't good at science.

The clerk inside the shop eyed the sweaty runner dubiously who stepped through the door, panting and probably very red. Prompto just flashed the guy a smile and paid for his water. He always brought his phone and his debit card when he went running, just in case. Never knew if he'd get bored mid-run and need to call Noct to come pick him up because he was too lazy to get his own ass back home.

Prompto took a few minutes to enjoy the air conditioning inside the mini mart while he rehydrated, shifting restively back and forth on his feet to keep his muscles warm. A TV was on above the counter, and the clerk had gone back to staring up at it with a bored expression. The sound was turned low, but Prompto could get the gist of what was being said. It was just the news, anyway, some lady with a microphone standing in the large Citadel Plaza with the palace behind her.

Then Prompto read the headline at the bottom of the screen and choked on his water. The clerk gave him a worried look as Prompto cleared his throat and reread the title just to be sure.

_Oracle and Family to Visit Insomnia_.

No way. The news was probably sixty percent bullshit on a good day, but they wouldn’t lie about something like this, right? On impulse, Prompto fumbled for his phone before the report could end and snapped a picture of the TV screen. Now the clerk was openly glaring at him, so Prompto gave him a wave and dashed out the door.

Outside again, he started typing a message to Noct, then paused. Noct wouldn't be awake for hours, and Prompto needed details, like, _now_. He couldn't believe his best friend hadn't mentioned anything about this to him, but knowing Noct it'd probably slipped his mind or something. Only the prince could forget to fucking mention the _Oracle_ was coming to visit.

So who could he ask? Gladio would probably just ignore him, or tell him to ask Noct which would get Prompto exactly nowhere. Which left him with only one real option, and boy did he feel like a dingus for letting this be the first thing he was gonna text Ignis about, but hey. It wasn't as idiotic as some of the other topics he'd cooked up.

_Prompto: Hey Ignis is this legit?_

He sent it as a photo message, then stuffed his phone back in his pocket, took one last pull from his water bottle before tossing it in a nearby garbage can, and started his run back home.

While he was running he couldn't feel his phone vibrate. He had to resist the urge to stop and check it every other minute, too, or he'd have been stuck out in the heat forever.

As soon as he got in the door he cranked on the AC, and then stood under one of the vents as he pulled out his phone. His heart did a stupid little dance in his chest when he saw Ignis had texted him back--several times.

_Ignis: Yes, it's true, didn't Noct mention it to you?_

_Ignis: Of course he didn't._

_Ignis: It won't be until the end of summer. She has to complete her tour of Accordo before coming to Lucis._

_Ignis: There's more than that which will be taking place as well, but I shouldn't say what over the phone._

Prompto’s heart was pounding now for a completely different reason. If the Oracle was really coming to Insomnia after all this time, then he could finally meet Lady Lunafreya. Maybe. If they would let a common rube like him anywhere near the Oracle's family.

He waffled on asking Ignis about it. First, he kinda had to take a shower now because he was disgusting.

_Prompto:_ _Well now I gotta know what's going on. Guess I'll have to give Noct the shakedown for the details._

_Prompto: Thanks Ignis._

Man, it was hard to type out complete sentences like that. Prompto didn't want Ignis to know just yet how tragic his grasp of spelling and grammar were, though. Thank the gods for autocorrect.

A nice, cool shower left Prompto feeling more human, and less a sticky blob. He made himself coffee and a bowl of cereal, then sat on the couch and turned the news on. He doubted that he'd learn anything more than what Ignis could tell him, but it couldn’t hurt.

Mouth full of cereal, Prompto checked his phone again. He had more messages from Ignis, and a sleepy, annoyed text from Noct calling him a “tattle tale.” Ignis must have gotten on his case after hearing from Prompto, which was oddly gratifying, knowing what a chore it was to get Noct out of bed. As the prince’s advisor, Ignis had to have been a pro at it by now.

To Noct, he replied: _you're the one who forgot to tell me the oracle was coming asshole_

Ignis’ messages were a lot nicer.

_Ignis:_ _You're welcome._

_Ignis: I believe I woke our intrepid young prince from his beauty sleep. He is displeased with me, for reasons unknown._

_Ignis: Have you taken any interesting pictures since last we spoke?_

Prompto nearly choked for the second time that morning, on Lucky Charms no less. _How ironic would it be if that was how I died?_ It was just that he could hear Ignis’ voice perfectly in his head; that amazingly smooth drawl, the wry inflection. Prompto had to take a long draw from his coffee mug before texting back.

_Prompto:_ _At least he actually wakes up when you text him. I could tell him I'm bleeding in a ditch and he'd roll over and go back to sleep._

_Prompto: I have actually. I can send you a few if you want?_

_Ignis:_ _Oh I don't know that he's that bad. Or one hopes not, at least._

_Ignis: If it's no trouble, I would certainly like to see what you've come up with._

Well. Hot damn. Getting photos from his camera to his phone was a bit of a chore, but Prompto wasn't complaining. He had some editing to do anyway.

_Prompto:_ _OK cool. It might take a while. Text you in a bit._

This was too easy, he thought. Ignis wanted to see his pictures, and Prompto had approximately eight bajillion photos stored on his hard drive. Ignis was only going to see the best of them, of course, which meant Prompto was going to spend a lot of time sifting. Good thing Ignis had the patience of a saint, or appeared to, anyway.

_I could send him cell phone pics too, I guess. Show him what I'm working on, or where I'm shooting. Maybe I could sneak a selfie in there too..._ Gods, was he really that thirsty? Maybe he should ask Noct about it, figure out if there was any possible way Ignis could ever be interested in Prompto.

The idea made his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. Noct would answer, but he’d take the piss out of Prompto for it first. _You like Specs? Are you kidding me? What, do you have an anal-retentiveness fetish or something?_

One thing Prompto knew without a doubt was that he could not explain himself sometimes. There were plenty of things that he liked about Ignis, but he didn't want to have to list those things to Noct, of all people. Ignis was Noct’s oldest friend, after all--Prompto didn't think Noct would want to hear all the reasons why Prompto found the man attractive. Not with Prompto’s tendency to ramble and to overshare. Noct definitely would not appreciate hearing Prompto wax poetic about Ignis’ nice ass.

After he finished shoveling cereal into his mouth, Prompto went to his room and started up his computer. _Maybe if I send him enough pictures he'll eventually fall in love with me, because I'm so deep and talented. Or I could do us both a favor and just bury myself in the ground._

He knew he ought to do the smart thing and let this go. This crush had only really just begun, and Prompto knew himself, knew how he could spend ages pining for someone who was either completely oblivious or just plain not interested. At the same time, he knew he genuinely liked Ignis as a person. Why ruin a perfectly good friendship that was finally gaining traction?

_I might not be good enough for him even if he_ _did like me, but we can still be buds, right?_ It was the same sort of deal with Noct; Prompto did everything he could to be a good friend to the prince, even if he felt sometimes--well, a lot of the time--that he was out of his depth. Noct never seemed to notice Prompto’s self-doubt, didn't know that Prompto still wasn't sure he really belonged with their group. Which was a good thing, he figured. No reason to dump all his issues on somebody else, someone like Noct, who had to worry about running an entire kingdom one day. Or someone like Ignis, who already shouldered several parts of another person’s burdens.

He had to shake his head to rid himself of these dour thoughts. If he wasn't good enough now then he just needed to try harder, make something of himself. Become somebody nobody would question standing with the prince's entourage. And if through some great cosmic miracle Prompto was allowed to have what he wanted, nobody would question seeing him standing by Ignis’ side, either.

_A guy can dream_ , he thought wistful. Then he got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might make Prompto a spotify playlist. I've got some ideas. 
> 
> Also, I feel like I'm getting a lot of comments and kudos for a rarepair fic that doesn't even have any smut yet, which is pretty darn neat. Thank you, friends. You're all top pop in my book.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Prompto continues to be dense.

Noct’s apartment was dark when Prompto arrived, sucking his teeth in exasperation to find the door unlocked.  _ Again _ . Prompto had a key to the place, and the doorman knew him so getting in wasn't a problem. Noct just never remembered to lock up behind himself--he was the same way with his car. Prompto wondered how the guy had managed to live this long without getting robbed blind.

Nobody was home, obviously. Prompto went about turning on the lights and pawing through the cabinets for snacks. He was starving, having forgotten to eat again. Today he'd gotten a bit lost, which he wouldn't have previously thought possible. Insomnia was a big city, but Prompto felt like he'd been over every inch of it in his twenty years. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing, but Prompto was sort of a pro at making a fool of himself.

As was typical for him, he'd gotten distracted, jumped off the train at the wrong stop because he'd seen some graffiti through the window he wanted to inspect. From there he'd just let himself get drawn away from the subway station, and before he'd realized he was in a neighborhood he didn't recognize. 

After panicking briefly, he got ahold of himself--he was still in the city. There were only so many places to go. Why not document the experience?

Which was how he'd wound up texting Ignis, informing him of Prompto’s exciting new photojournalistic project: Prompto Finds His Way Home. It was a joke, of course. Prompto sent selfies of himself looking confused, pointing to street signs like they were indecipherable, leading up to the grand finale when he finally found another train station--the picture of him praising the Six was going to be his new Facebook avatar.

Ignis had been concerned at first, until he'd caught on to Prompto’s theatrics. 

_ Ignis _ :  _ Are you certain you don't need rescuing? _

_ Prompto: It's noble of you to offer, but alas I fear I won't last that long. If I don't make it back,  please tell our friends not to touch my stuff. _

_ Ignis: You can count on me, dear Prompto. I'll pray to the Six for your safe return. _

Having Ignis actually willing to play along with Prompto’s antics was truly a gift. Prompto was delighted to learn that the composed man had a silly side, an aspect of his personality that Prompto doubted that Ignis let many people see. Ignis always had to be in control, always perfectly poised while he was working. Was it difficult, Prompto wondered? Was it a facade, or was he naturally that closed off? 

_ Not gonna lie, I kinda like the idea of Iggy opening up to me like this. _ Knowing Ignis didn't allow very many people to get so close made Prompto feel sorta...privileged. Even if it was foolish and he was completely overreacting, Prompto was happy to believe that Ignis was that comfortable around him.

There was a commotion at the door, and Prompto heard the muffled sound of Noct’s voice, followed by the click of the door opening. “...telling you, trust me Gladio. I haven't even asked him yet.”

“Asked who, what?” Prompto asked, stepping out of the kitchen, wrist deep in a bag of chips.

“Dude, I was saving those!” Noct whined, receiving a shove from behind from Gladio for blocking the doorway.

“Didn't see your name on ‘em,” Prompto said with a shrug.

“They're in my apartment!” Noct said, shooting an indifferent Gladio a dirty look as the much larger man pushed past him.

“So?” Prompto said, deliberately placing a chip in his mouth as Noct watched, one eye twitching.

Before they could devolve into a full-on chip war, Gladio spoke up. “Knock it off, you two. Noct, didn't you have something to ask him?” Gladio jerked a thumb in Prompto’s direction before stepping past him, into the kitchen.

“I dunno. I'm not sure I can trust a brazen  _ thief _ ,” Noct said, moving into the living room. 

“Trust me with what?” Prompto asked, skipping behind his friend and nearly colliding with Noct when he abruptly turned back around.

“How do you feel about joining the Crownsguard?” Noct asked, without preamble.

Prompto made a confused noise that went something like, “Hwuh?” Noct took the opportunity to snatch the bag out of Prompto’s hand, and then dropped casually onto the couch.

“Think about it,” Noct said, as if that was the end of the conversation, no further details needed.

Meanwhile, Prompto’s brain was only just catching up. “The Crownsguard...Why would I…?”

“How else are you gonna meet Luna?” Noct said as he scooped up the TV remote.

“I... _ That's  _ your solution? Have me join the Crownsguard?” Prompto asked, flabbergasted. He was still a little miffed that Noct hadn't told him about the Oracle's visit, and that he'd had to find out about it on the news. And now it seemed Noct was messing with him, because Prompto knew he wasn't bodyguard material. 

So he asked, “You're joking, right? All I know about fighting is what you taught me, and I'm still not very good.” 

“Told you he'd wuss out,” Gladio said casually as he joined them in the living room, hand grasping a bottle of beer. 

“I'm not wussing out!” Prompto protested, sitting on the arm of the couch as Gladio brushed past and dropped into the armchair. “C’mon Noct, you're messing with me here, right?” He was almost pleading now, giving Noct’s shoulder a worried squeeze.

“No, I’m not,” Noct said, flipping through channels as he searched for something to watch. 

“I…,” Prompto didn't know what to say. All of this was from so far out of left field he couldn't make sense of it. “Why, dude?”

Sighing, Noct twisted to look up at him. “Because you're my best friend, and I want you to meet Luna. And since you're a  _ civilian _ ,” Noct made a face at that, as if he was repeating something someone else had told him, “I can't tell you about everything else that's going to happen. And, I dunno, I thought it'd be fun.” Noct shrugged and slumped back down on the couch.

“Look,” Gladio said from the lounger, rolling his eyes, “Noct needs another bodyguard for his retinue. In his words, he wants it to be someone who won't be a ‘total drag.’ Right, Your Highness?” 

“Something like that,” Noct mumbled. Then, to Prompto again, “If you don't wanna do it, it's fine. I mean, you could give it a try, see if there's anything weapons-wise you're comfortable with.” 

Mouth working, Prompto tried to think of a valid reason to say no. It sounded like Noct was giving him an option for a trial run. So if Prompto turned out to be as awful a choice as he was sure he would be, he could back out. In that case, there was no real reason not to, and he'd get to meet Lunafreya face to face if he got sworn in, but…

The thought of officially joining the Crownsguard was a scary one, to be frank. Having to protect Noct from harm in the same capacity as Gladio was an unnerving prospect--not because Prompto was unwilling, but because he was certain he'd mess it up somehow. Imagining a scenario where Noct was in danger and Prompto was the only one who could save him, well...things didn't end happily. Not in Prompto’s disaster area of a brain. 

A knock at the front door interrupted his harried thoughts. Before any of them could move, they could hear the door opening and shutting, and then Ignis was standing in the living room doorway. 

“Ignis,” Prompto said, a soft exhale that was definitely on the breathless side. Seeing him was enough to get Prompto’s blood pumping, but nobody seemed to notice, thank the gods.

“Hey, Specs,” Noct said without even looking, one hand raised in greeting. The TV was now tuned to some gory-looking horror flick, which meant Noct was settled and wouldn't be getting up for anything unless he ran out of chips. 

Gladio tipped his head to Ignis, “Iggy, you're off early tonight.”

“Indeed. It was suggested to me that I might be overworking myself,” Ignis said with a sniff, as if he disdained the implication. 

“I've never seen you take off work before five, so I'd have to agree,” Gladio said, ignoring Ignis’ withering look. 

Prompto said nothing, but he was with Gladio on this one. Lately he'd been noticing little cracks in Ignis’ tight composure, like that morning on the train. Maybe the signs had always been there and Prompto had just never taken note before, hadn't paid attention until recently for obvious reasons. Right now Ignis looked much the same as usual, if a bit on the irritable side. There was a tightness around his eyes and mouth, though, a slight slump in his shoulders. Nobody would notice unless they knew him, had seen him when he was relaxed and at ease. 

“At any rate, if we're staying in tonight then I should get started on dinner. What's everybody in the mood for?” Without waiting for an answer, Ignis headed for the kitchen. 

Prompto felt his mouth twisting in concern. “We oughtta give Ignis a break,” he said, voice low as he leaned down over Noct. 

“Huh? What, from cooking?” Noct gave Prompto something like a scowl, “That's his whole deal. He likes feeding people.”

“Yeah, but he  _ always _ cooks for you, unless we go out. He's beat today, dude. Give the guy a night off.” Prompto punctuated his point with an elbow to his friend's collar bone.

“Ow, jeez!” 

“I'm with Blondie,” Gladio said, though his eyes were trained on a particularly bloody scene on the television. 

Paling, Prompto twisted away from the screen, not even bothering to shoot Gladio a dirty look for the nickname.  _ I can't even handle a scary movie, and Noct wants me on the Crownsguard. Love ya, buddy, but this isn't one of your best ideas. _

Ignis was going through the cabinets in the kitchen, though he was oddly unfocused, Prompto thought. Opening the doors but not really looking, as if he was distracted. “Ignis?” he said, and he saw Ignis give a start, which was unusual in itself. Ignis was always aware of his surroundings it felt like, but this was twice Prompto had caught him off guard.

“Oh, Prompto,” he said, straightening and giving the younger man a ready smile. “How can I be of service?”

For a second Prompto just looked at him, wrestling suddenly with what he'd been going to say, and what he  _ wanted _ to say. “Is everything okay, Ignis?” he blurted, “With you, I mean? You seem kinda off, is all, and I was...I was,” he swallowed hard, “Just wondering.” He'd been about to say he was worried, but he already thought he was being too forward. Whatever was or wasn't going on in Ignis’ life wasn't any of his business, but that didn't mean he didn't care.

Ignis, for his part, looked hard at Prompto, that same sort of considering gaze he'd been subjected to that morning on the train. Then something softened around Ignis’ eyes, and he shut the cabinet he'd been looking through. “I'm fine, Prompto. A bit tired, I suppose, but none the worse for wear. Thank you, though. For your concern.” He spoke gently, low enough that his voice wouldn't carry across the hall, and reached up to give Prompto’s shoulder a friendly, lingering squeeze.

“Oh. Well. Good,” Prompto said, mortified to feel his face going hot. Ducking his head under the pretense of fussing with his bracelets, he quickly babbled, “Well, ah, Noct said he wants pizza, and Gladio and me are down, so, uh, you don't need to cook anything. If you don't want.”

Ignis’ hand slipped off of Prompto’s shoulder, and he was both relieved and disappointed at the loss of warmth. 

“No?” Ignis said, and there was an almost tangible difference in his tone, some of the weariness lifted. Like he was glad for the reprieve, which made Prompto feel justified for being pushy about something for once. 

Noct’s favorite pizza joint didn't deliver, which was absurd Prompto thought. Ignis volunteered to go pick up their order, and Prompto was on his feet, offering to tag along before he could give it a second thought. “I'm feeling kinda jittery. I just need to do something,” he told Ignis when the advisor said Prompto didn't need to help. It wasn't a lie, exactly. Ignis was the source of Prompto’s sudden case of restlessness, but Prompto also wanted the excuse to be alone with him, even for a few minutes.

He had a reason this time, other than this crush that was growing more insistent by the day. “So,” Prompto said, once they were in Ignis’ car and a good block away from Noct’s apartment building. “Did Noct tell you about how he wants me to join the Crownsguard?” Prompto couldn't seem to stop bouncing his leg, or tapping his fingers on the passenger side armrest.

“He did,” Ignis said, but offered nothing else. Being stuck in a small space with the object of his affections was beginning to seem like a bad idea, Prompto thought. Ignis was, like,  _ right there _ . Close enough to touch. Close enough that all Prompto could smell was Ignis’ cologne, a very subtle scent, something almost like sage but earthier, very Ignis. Had he ever noticed that scent before? At the moment it felt like he was drowning in it, in a really,  _ really  _ good way. 

“Yeah,” Prompto said, squirming, “I mean, I thought he was joking. Like,  _ me _ , in the Crownsguard?” He gave a laugh that sounded weak in his own ears, and saw Ignis’ mouth pull into a frown.

“Is it really so farfetched an idea?” Ignis asked.

“Well…” Now Prompto wasn't so sure. A moment ago he would have said it was the most ridiculous idea he'd ever heard. “I...I'm not really...I don't think I'd be very good at it, is all.” He began twiddling his thumbs in his lap, staring down at his hands. “I can't really fight. I'm not strong, and I’m kind of a wimp, remember?” 

“You do yourself a disservice, Prompto. You're also loyal and kind, thoughtful and creative, and one of Noct’s dearest friends, and Noct wouldn't waste his time with a coward, so I have doubts that you're as easily frightened as you claim. Not where it counts,” Ignis said, firm, as they stopped at a red light. “There are aspects to being in the Crownsguard that don't solely utilize brute strength. If you chose to accept a position with us, I'm certain we'd find a place for you.”

Unable to speak past the sudden lump in his throat, Prompto folded his hands tight together, eyes fixed downward. Did Ignis really think those things, or was he just being nice?  _ I don't think Ignis says anything he doesn't mean. But...I'm not… _ He was overwhelmed, his chest swelling with sweet warmth until it felt fit to burst.

“Just consider it,” Ignis said as the car began moving again. “You'll be able to put more money toward that class you wanted to take, if nothing else.” 

That was true. Prompto hadn't even thought about that, but Crownsguard had to make more money than he did. A steady paycheck would certainly be a plus. It was everything else that gave him pause, like the thought of getting his ass kicked in training, the thought of  _ actual _ fighting, the thought--

Ignis would be there. He'd said “we” when talking about the Crownsguard. Ignis and Gladio were both Crownsguard, as well as Noct’s advisor and Shield. They would all be together constantly, training together, working together--well, whenever they didn’t have other duties that would pull them away. Prompto would be closer to Ignis, a lot closer than they’d been up until now. 

Prompto wasn't so far gone that his mind was made up by that realization alone, but getting to work with Ignis put a big ol’ check in the Pros column. 

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed softly. “I'll think about it.” He bit his lip, then risked looking up at Ignis. The sun was still up, but its light was waning and the golden blaze of sunset was spilling through the windows. Prompto couldn't see Ignis’ eyes through the glare bouncing off his glasses, but the light made his skin glow, throwing his features into stark relief.  _ Where is my fucking camera when I need it?  _

Ignis was too pretty, and it made something ache behind Prompto’s ribs to know he could only look, never touch. More than anything he wanted to fling himself across the center console and find out how those perfect lips fit against his own, but that would probably be dangerous since Ignis was driving and all. 

_ I dunno if I can take this _ , he thought. Every interaction with Ignis had Prompto falling deeper. If they were in close proximity for extended periods of time then that would only exacerbate his feelings. Worse than that, he didn't think staying away from Ignis would help at this point. Prompto was in this until the end no matter the outcome, good or bad.

_ Why do I have to be this way? _ So fixated, so helpless, so easily swept up by these one-sided emotions? It was like the Six wanted him to suffer, always pining after someone who wasn't interested or who Prompto could never hope to have. As childish as it was to think so, he couldn't help but to feel that this whole thing was terribly unfair.   
  
And there was simply not a damn thing he could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Prompto that playlist, but I'm pretty sure if I use spotify on my laptop it will explode. I will say the playlist is called Sweet Memes Are Made of These, and my spotify username is marleyincharge. I wanted it to be marlesincharge, but that was taken. Music is my gift to you. Enjoy yourself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I keep changing the way I format texting in this story. I don't know what I'm doing.

A few days later, Prompto got home around dinnertime to find that both of his parents were there. It was such a rare sight that he almost couldn't believe it--not only were all three of them in the same place at once, but they were all awake and nobody was rushing to get out the door. It felt something like a good omen

Prompto had spent the afternoon with Noct, hanging around the outdoor malls uptown. Noct had spent half the time sulking about some important state dinner he had to go to that night, and Prompto had done his best to cheer his friend up. Together, they'd eaten too much and browsed around the shops for hours, always finding something to make a joke about, probably disrupting business with their raucous, snorting laughter

It had been good to see Noct laughing--lately he'd seemed moodier than usual. When Prompto had asked about it, Noct had brushed his concerns aside. They'd been friends long enough that Prompto knew he was being lied to about something and it hurt, but he didn't press the issue. Noct had to have a good reason for keeping whatever was bothering him to himself, and he’d never been terribly well-versed in dealing with his emotions anyway. All Prompto could do was try harder to be there for his friend.

“If you were in the Crownsguard you could come to this boring-ass dinner and keep me entertained,” Noct had said at one point. Ever since he’d brought his Crownsguard idea up, Noct hadn't let it drop, though he wasn't being terribly pushy about it. He just kept casually dropping the suggestion into conversation, like Prompto couldn’t see what he was doing.

“Am I gonna be your bodyguard or your personal clown?” Prompto had said, pulling a face.

“You're already my personal clown. Ah! Y’know it's treason to assault a member of the royal family?” Noct had grumbled, rubbing the spot on his arm Prompto had--barely--punched.

“So arrest me,” Prompto had said, flippant.

Now Prompto was home, and his mom greeted him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Just in time, sweetie. We're both too tired to cook, so we're ordering out. What do you want?”

He wasn't very hungry, but the chance to have dinner with his family was too much to pass up. They hadn't all been together like this in months, and Prompto had missed it. Couldn’t even remember the last time they’d all been able to sit down and be together, like a normal family.

While Mom went to wash up, Dad sat and asked Prompto about his day, and Prompto was only too happy to fill the silence. His father worked completely erratic hours, so Prompto hardly ever got more than a few minutes to talk to him. He knew his excited babble was childlike; a little boy coming home from school and talking a mile a minute about the macaroni art he’d made that day. Dad never seemed to have any trouble following what Prompto had to say, though he occasionally looked like the inside of his head was stuck on a loading screen.

By the time the food arrived, Prompto had forgotten the original question and had launched into a discussion about some new machine shop that was opening down the street. The flow of words faltered when they actually sat down to eat. Prompto held his tongue while his parents chatted, knowing they didn't get much time together either. Even when they were together, they were usually too tired to enjoy one-another’s company.

During a lull, he cleared his throat and said, as casually as possible, “I'm actually glad you're both here tonight. There's something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Uh oh,” Dad said with a sigh, “What'd you and that prince get up to now?”

 _That prince_ , _like Noct is some random_ _hooligan_ , Prompto thought as he tried to hide a smirk.

“Nothing, Dad, jeez,” Prompto scoffed, “I mean, it is kinda about Noct, but it's not bad. Or, I guess it depends.”

“Prompto, honey,” Mom said in that “you’re rambling” voice.

“Right. Ahem. I was, ah, I was thinking of... joining the Crownsguard.” He ended the sentence staring down at his plate. Silence reigned for several, awful beats as he held his fork with an unsteady hand. He didn’t really know why he might have cause to be nervous about this--generally, his parents just sort of shrugged and let him do what he wanted. _This isn’t exactly the sort of thing you normally throw at them, you gotta admit_.

“That's…,” Mom began, and he glanced up in time to see her shooting a look at Dad.

“Right,” Dad said, sighing, shifting forward in his chair, “You know that's a dangerous job, son? It's serious work, not this repair stuff you've been doing. It's like being in the army.”

Straightening in his seat, Prompto said, “I know,” a little annoyed. Yeah, he'd be with Noct a lot more, but Prompto knew--or at least had an idea of--what being in the Crownsguard was like. There wasn’t really a lot of room for error, or for messing around. “I mean, I know this under the table gig is nowhere near the same level, but it's not like I goof off when I have someone else's laptop gutted in front of me.” _I am capable of taking things seriously on occasion_.

“We know you take your work seriously,” said Mom, echoing his thoughts, “But the Crownsguard...you could get hurt, sweetie.”

“I know, Mom, but--,” he stopped short as he felt himself beginning to get frustrated, taking in a breath through his nose. Slowly, he began, “It's more money. And Ig--Noct’s advisor told me I wouldn't have to be front and center. I mean, that's the Shield’s job.”

“Prompto,” Dad said, wearing a knowing and exasperated expression, “This is about a girl, isn't it?”

“What? No!” Prompto objected, but the blush heating his face belied the words. Mom and Dad exchanged a Look, thinking they'd found him out. “It's not!” he insisted, and it wasn't a lie. _It’s not just about Ignis, either. Being closer to him would be amazing, but I’m not that desperate. Yet_.

“Prompto…,” Mom sighed.

“Mom, Dad, _seriously_ ,” he whined, “It's not about a _girl_. Noct wants me to be able to meet the Oracle and her family, and yeah she’s a woman, yeah, but like, no? Not gonna happen.”

“We just want to make sure that if you do this it's for the right reasons, and not just because Prince Noctis wants you to,” Mom said, reaching over to pat the back of Prompto’s hand in a consoling gesture.

With the slightest roll of his eyes, Prompto managed a lopsided smile. “I don't just do whatever Noct tells me to, y'know.” Dad snorted into his glass, and Prompto scowled at him. “Shut up, I don't!”

“Of course not, son,” Dad wheezed slightly, flinching away as Mom gave him a light slap on the arm.

Pouting, Prompto went back to eating before either of his parents could think of anything else to tease him about. _Gods, if I told them about Ignis I'd never heard the end of it,_ he thought. Mom would want to meet him immediately, suss him out, and Dad would probably just be confused. There would be no quiet crushing after that, not with Mom on the case. Prompto didn't think he could survive having his infatuation towards Ignis outed in that way. _I don't need my mommy to get dates for me_.

After dinner was over, Dad suggested they watch a movie. Prompto knew both of his parents would probably fall asleep within a half-hour, but he sat with them in the living room anyway. Predictably, Dad started snoring after twenty minutes, then Mom nodded off. Prompto wasn't actually very interested in the movie himself; he hadn't really been paying attention, too busy mulling things over.

He couldn't help but wonder if his parents’ worries stemmed solely from genuine concern, or if there were other reasons. Maybe they thought he just wasn't cut out for the Crownsguard, which bugged him even though he'd thought the same thing himself. He'd wanted their input, hoping they'd spur him to make a decision one way or another. Now, as he got up to stop the movie and dim the lights, he felt even more muddled than before.

Back in his room he shut the door and flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Decision-making had never exactly been Prompto’s strong suit. Even small things often left him stymied, and gods forbid he was with Noct because neither of them knew how to make up their minds. They'd once spent two hours trying to decide if they wanted to get ice cream or find a place to go swimming. They could have done both in that time, and in the end they'd both wound up taking a nap instead.

Sighing, he pulled his phone out and found he had some grumpy texts from Noct, complaining about having to deal with politics.

 **Prompto** : you realize this is kinda your job right  
 **Prompto** : Ignis can't do everything for you  
 **Noct** : he would if he really loved me  
 **Prompto** : jeez you want him to chew your food for ya too  
 **Prompto** : don't answer that  
 **Noct** : i think it's past my bedtime  
 **Noct** : Specs knows i’m texting under the table  
 **Noct** : i told on you  
 **Prompto** : you bastard

 **Ignis** : Please stop distracting Noctis.  
 **Prompto** : He started it :(  
 **Ignis** : Of that I have no doubt.  
 **Ignis** : I know you're pouting, so stop.  
 **Prompto** : Are you mad at me?

There was no immediate answer, and Prompto actually began to panic. The question had only been half-serious, but he had about fifteen minutes to work himself into a lather worrying over whether he'd really ticked Ignis off. _Should I apologize? Maybe I weirded him out asking if he was mad. If I say I'm sorry would that make it worse_? He had typed out deleted five different follow-ups when Ignis’ response finally popped up.

 **Ignis** : I'm not angry, just disappointed.  
 **Ignis** : I hope it's clear that that was a joke.  
 **Prompto** : Shit dude no, don't goof on me like that!  
 **Prompto** : Mean  
 **Prompto** : You're mean  
 **Prompto** : Why don’t you go make sure Noct isn't sneaking off somewhere to take a nap  
 **Ignis** : My sincerest apologies, dear Prompto.  
 **Ignis** : I hope you can forgive me.  
 **Prompto** : I guess  
 **Ignis** : So magnanimous.  
 **Prompto** : I had to look up what that word meant  
 **Ignis** : I think it describes you well.  
 **Prompto** : Even tho you were being sarcastic?  
 **Ignis** : Even so.

 **Noct** : dude are you still texting Ignis???  
 **Noct** : he's been smiling at his lap for like ten minutes

Prompto could feel himself blushing, and was glad he was alone. Before he could answer Noct, he got another message from Ignis.

 **Ignis** : It seems we've been found out.  
 **Ignis** : I think you might be a poor influence on me.  
 **Prompto** : I'm offended  
 **Prompto** : I can't help it if I'm fun to talk to  
 **Ignis** : I do enjoy our exchanges.  
 **Ignis** : I'm afraid I'll have to message you later, however.  
 **Prompto** : ok :( bye Ignis  
 **Ignis** : No pouting  
 **Prompto** : :((((((  
 **Ignis** : Stop.  
 **Prompto** : ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
 **Ignis** : I'm turning my phone off.

Prompto laughed, snorting when he dropped his phone on his face. _He really likes talking to me_ , Prompto thought, realizing that he was grinning so hard his cheeks were beginning to ache. As he held his phone to his chest, he felt it buzz again, and lifted it back up to eye-level.

 **Noct** : dude???  
 **Noct** : what are you two talking about??  
 **Prompto** : about how Ignis likes me more than you  
 **Noct** : ???¿¿?  
 **Prompto** : he’s gonna come live with me now  
 **Noct** : ok i’m worried bc he was really like smiling??  
 **Prompto** : ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
 **Noct** : don’t make that fuckin face at me you little shit  
 **Prompto** : :^)  
 **Noct** : what the fuck Prom  
 **Prompto** : so like the crownsguard  
 **Prompto** : do they get a special badge to wear?  
 **Prompto** : like if a city guard was hassling me i could whip out my badge like not so fast fucker  
 **Noct** : don’t change the subject  
 **Noct** : wait what do you mean  
 **Prompto** : i think my answer might be yes  
 **Prompto** : maybe yes  
 **Noct** : don’t mess with me Prompto i’m having a rough night  
 **Prompto** : ask Ignis to warm up a pacifier for you  
 **Noct** : i’m gonna kick your ass  
 **Noct** : my dad is coming over to me but we will talk tomorrow!!  
 **Prompto** : if you’re not grounded ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
 **Noct** : i’m an adult  
 **Prompto** : ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) if you say so

There were no further messages, which meant Noct had either been caught, or he’d stuffed his phone away in time and couldn’t take it out again. Prompto didn’t mind. He was in a much better mood now than he’d been after dinner.

Distracting Ignis was something Prompto could really see himself getting into, a new, exciting hobby. And Noct had said that Ignis was smiling; smiling and staring at his phone during an important government function. _I hope I didn’t get him in any trouble_ , Prompto thought, but the guilt didn’t last long. Ignis would be able to talk himself out of any kind of social faux pas, Prompto was sure. The man was criminally smooth.

“What am I gonna do?” he groaned softly at the ceiling. Join the Crownsguard or not. Try to get closer to Ignis, or bury his feelings. _I need to hire somebody to tell me what to do_ , he thought. Not that he could ever hope to afford something like that unless he sold a kidney.

 _I should really tell Noct,_ he thought. Even if doing so subjected him to some light ribbing, he needed to talk to somebody about the messy knot of emotions in his chest. And who knew Ignis better than Noct? _As long as I don’t lose my nerve_ , Prompto thought, _I’ll ask him what he thinks. Soon. Soonish. Definitely at some point_.

Well, it felt good to have a plan, at least. Flimsy as it was. _Hopeless_ , he thought. _That’s what I am. Completely hopeless_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously. I don't know what I'm doing. I didn't plan any of this. But things should finally get moving in the next chapter, maybe. Who knows. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read somewhere that Iggy is a duke of something, but I don’t remember of what or where I read it so. Edit: I was informed by Okanehime that Iggy is actually a count, so I fixed that.
> 
> These boys, you guys. These boys. It’s been awhile since I’ve written a slow burn so I’m like??? Why won’t they kiss? I mean we’re getting there, and I know I’m the writer but I’m like screaming in my mind “For gods’ sakes, just kiss already!” 
> 
> This was supposed to be a one-shot.

“And this is the outdoor training yard. As you can see it's similar to our indoor space, but less confined. We work out here in all types of weather; don't expect to stay inside when it's raining.” Monica Elshett had been introduced to Prompto as an administrator of sorts. Thus far she'd been amicable, winking up at him at that last bit about the weather and smiling gently when he grimaced.

Despite her easy manner, Prompto was feeling distinctly intimidated and overwhelmed. Their tour of the Crownsguard training facility hadn't been extensive--it was a large space, but most of it was on a single floor. Aside from the offices near the front of the building, all of the rooms were rather large, open spaces.

There were more than a few Crownsguard on duty, as well. Many were training, dressed in grey athletic uniforms and strapped with padding. Others wore all black, and were either returning from or heading out on patrol. All of them looked ready for business, like they were prepared to fuck shit up at a moment's notice-- _come to think, that's exactly what they are_. Prompto didn't think he could ever measure up to that level of readiness.

Watching them train, hearing them grunt in pain when they were hit or knocked to the floor, made Prompto’s stomach twist with nerves. _And I agreed to this_ , he thought with a hard gulp.

“Prom’s used to that,” Noct said as he walked up behind Prompto and slung an arm around his shoulder, shaking Prompto out of his thoughts. “He's one of those masochists that gets up real early no matter the weather and runs around outside, a--what do you call ‘em again?” Noct asked, feigning ignorance.

“A jogger?” Prompto supplied flatly.

Noct made a face, and gave Prompto a sideways squeeze, “Yeah, that's it.”

“Well,” said Monica, looking vaguely entertained, “It bodes well for your training that you've built up some endurance to harsh conditions. Now, I believe that about does it for the tour; if you'll come with me we'll pay Dustin a visit and he can take your measurements for your uniform.”

Prompto shot Noct a nervous look, and the prince withdrew his arm, giving Prompto a bolstering pat on the back. “They're not gonna make you strip, dude. I mean, unless you're into that,” Noct said as he made to follow Monica back inside.

Scowling, Prompto jogged to catch up, bumping Noct’s shoulder with his own. “Dick,” he huffed, under his breath as they reached the open door and stepped inside.

“Loser,” Noct shot back with an elbow to Prompto’s ribs.

Grumbling and rubbing his side, Prompto countered with a hissed, “Prince of _Shit_.”

“...Okay that one was pretty good,” Noct conceded after a moment's consideration.

From ahead of them, Monica cleared her throat, and Prompto felt himself go hot as he realized she'd heard their entire exchange. _Nice first impression, idiot._

Unperturbed, Noct dragged Prompto along with a bland, “Sorry, Monica,” that suggested he wasn't sorry at all.

Monica led them back toward the front of the building, stopping in front of a closed door. “Here we are,” she said, and raised her hand to knock. A moment later a voice inside called out, and she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Ah, Monica,” an older, dignified-looking man said as they filed into the room. “I take it that this is our newest recruit?” He rose up from behind the desk he was sitting at, but Prompto’s attention was briefly stolen by the other person waiting for them.

Ignis was bent over the desk, leaning forward on one hand as if he'd been looking over something. When he lifted his gaze and saw Prompto staring at him, he offered a small smile, just the barest upwards tilt at the corners of his mouth. The gesture was enough to set the butterflies in Prompto’s stomach into overdrive. _Holy shit. Fuck. I'm going to die._

Then he realized Monica was talking to him, and plastered a smile onto his own face as he shook Dustin’s hand.

“I'll leave you boys to it, then,” Monica said. “Dustin and Ignis will provide you with everything else you'll need, and can answer any questions you might have.”

“Yeah, cool,” Prompto said, nerves setting in again. He hadn't been expecting Ignis to be there. The situation had the potential to be awkward, but as it turned out Ignis simply stood to the side while Dustin took a measuring tape and made Prompto stand with his arms held up like a scarecrow. While Dustin read off measurements, Ignis took down notes, and the whole process took less than five minutes.

“Quick and painless, what’d I tell you?” Noct said, patting the back of his hand against Prompto’s arm. “Are we good, Specs?”

“Not so fast. Come here, Prompto, if you would,” Ignis said, beckoning Prompto over to the desk as he picked up a plain-looking folder from its surface.

Heart thudding, Prompto moved as casually as he could to stand by Ignis. “What's that?” he asked.

“I drew up a schedule for you. Your temporary I.D. badge is in there as well, and copies of the Crownsguard code of conduct and other pertinent information,” Ignis said, handing Prompto the folder.

“Thanks,” he said too softly. _Gods, he smells amazing,_ Prompto thought, shivering as he held the folder up and pretended to look through its contents. _I’m so pitiful. It would be funny if it didn’t make me want to cry._

A hand touched his elbow, and he startled at the jolt of warmth that shot through him. He looked up and realized Ignis was leveling a kind, encouraging smile at him. “Nervous?” he asked.

 _End me._ “A-a little,” Prompto admitted, hoping Ignis attributed the slight hitch in his voice to said nerves. After all, it wasn't exactly a lie.

Ignis huffed a soft laugh. “You'll be fine. Believe it or not, you're not the least experienced individual we've recruited.”

“Really?” Prompto said, managing a somewhat relieved smile. “I saw some of the people training, and they seemed, like, extremely real. Like I was kind of afraid I was gonna get my ass handed to me just from like the residual badassery in the air.”

“I don't believe we've ever encountered that particular problem,” Ignis said, eyes dancing somewhat behind his glasses.

“Nah, I'm pretty sure I got a black eye once just watching Gladio train,” Noct said.

“Yeah, I heard Gladio can rupture your spleen from fifty feet away just by flexing his biceps,” Prompto agreed.

“Don't go giving the man ideas now,” Ignis said, his smile turning wry. “The last thing we need is Gladio bashing about with telekinetic musculature.”

With a snort, Noct said, “You're right, he'd probably destroy the city.”

“If that's all, Your Highness, Lord Scientia,” Dustin cut in after clearing his throat. “I've some other work that needs tending to.”

“Of course,” Ignis said, actually appearing chastened. “Excuse us, Dustin.” Ignis made an ushering gesture, shooing Noctis and Prompto out of the office and closing the door behind them as he followed in their wake.

“So,” Noct said, giving Prompto a nudge, “You wanna go check out the armory?”

Prompto felt his eyebrows shoot up almost comically. “Oh, _now_?” He hadn’t expected them to stuff a sword in his hand on the first day, but now he realized he probably shouldn’t have been so surprised.

“No time like the present,” Ignis said, tone almost jovial. Then his hand came to rest on the small of Prompto’s back, and Prompto felt himself go stiff in response. Such a light touch shouldn’t have affected him so much, he thought, but in the next second Ignis’ hand fell away. No, it _jerked_ away. When Prompto risked a look up at Ignis’ face, he saw with dismay that Ignis’ expression had gone carefully neutral, replacing the warmth that had been there only moments ago.

 _Uh oh. Does he think he offended me or something?_ Prompto opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again as Noct--who was in a better mood today than he’d been in weeks--led the way back down the hall. What could Prompto possibly say to rectify what had just happened? _It’s okay if you touch me, Ignis; touch me as much as you want, buddy. I’m just, like, fucking super-charged so whenever you so much as_ breathe _in my direction it makes me wanna jump your bones_.

 _Yeah, say_ that, _Prompto_ , he thought, _that’ll smooth everything right over_.

Swallowing hard, he fell into step beside Ignis, and cast about desperately for something to say. “So, uh,” he began, “‘Lord Scientia,’ huh?”

“Pardon?” Ignis said, frowning slightly, keeping his gaze forward.

“That’s what Dustin called you,” Prompto said, “I never...I guess I knew you were part of the nobility, but I’ve just never heard anybody, like, _say_ it.”

“Iggy’s a count, or something,” Noct supplied.

Ignis blew out a breath, and said, peevishly, “You know very well what my title is, Noct. Or used to be, rather. It matters little, as the only role I serve in any official capacity is that of your royal advisor.”

“Eh, what do titles matter between friends, anyway?” Noct said, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

“I don’t even have any,” Prompto said with a shrug. The words didn’t come out quite as humorous as he’d intended, but it was true, wasn’t it? He’d almost let himself forget--Ignis, Noct, Gladio, they were all important. _And I’m just some nobody tagalong_.

“You do now, Crownsguard Argentum,” Noct said. He sounded a lot more excited about it than Prompto felt, but Prompto managed a grin anyway.

“Yeah. I guess I do.”

Monica had only given Prompto a cursory look at the armory, a room that was locked by a key-card access. Most of the weapons were sealed away in heavy-duty, steel lockers. Only a few, high-ranking people had complete access to the full armory. Noct was supposed to have a master key, but he’d given it to Ignis so he wouldn’t lose it. Ignis had a key of his own, of course; he made a disparaging comment about Noct’s propensity for losing keys, and the prince just shrugged.

“Not like I need it. I can just summon any weapons I wanna use.”

Ignoring the flippancy of the comment with the ease of practice, Ignis turned to Prompto as they stood in front of one of the lockers. “Any thoughts, Prompto? I understand that you’ve never used any sort of weapon, before.”

“No, never,” Prompto said, shaking his head as he fidgeted uneasily. After a moment of chewing on his lip, he said, “I...I dunno. I’d really like to not get hit, so something that would stop me from getting hit would be _great_.”

To his relief, some of the humor had returned to Ignis’ gaze. “I’m afraid we can’t guarantee that you’ll remain unscathed, but that’s what training is for--to minimize the getting hit part. As to that, perhaps a ranged weapon would best suit you.”

“W-what? Like a bow and arrow?” Prompto asked, mind going automatically to Kings Knight, watching anxiously as Ignis stepped forward to disengage the heavy lock on the metal case.

Noct snorted, and Prompto could see the hint of a smile on Ignis’ mouth. “Something a bit more modern, I think.” From the locker, he removed a metallic case that was a bit larger and heavier looking than the chocobo lunchbox Prompto had carried in elementary school. “Come,” Ignis said after securing the locker once more.

Prompto trailed obediently behind Ignis as the advisor led them out of a door in the back of the armory, into a much larger room. There was a wall before them, about waist height with partitioned sections running down the length of the room. Beyond the wall was a wide open, well-lit space. Prompto didn’t realize where they were until he saw the lines suspended from the ceiling, each one running from a partitioned space all the way to the far wall. _It’s a shooting range_.

Already, Ignis had moved over to one of the partitions and had set the metal case down on top of the small surface provided. As Prompto edged closer, all timidity and reluctance, Ignis popped open the clasps on the case, and sure enough, nestled inside was a shiny revolver-style gun.

Prompto glanced over at Noct, hoping he looked as incredulous as he felt, but Noct just gave him an encouraging grin. _Dad was right, I really do just do whatever Noct tells me to. Damnit_.

“Look here, Prompto. I’ll show you how to load it,” Ignis said, and Prompto took a few extra mincing steps forward, setting his folder down on the counter. He watched Ignis flip open the spinny-part of the revolver and put the bullets in, only listening with half-an ear as Ignis explained what he was doing. _A gun. They’re giving_ me, _Prompto Argentum_ , _a gun. This is the worst possible idea ever_. “...and this is the safety. Simple, yes?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Prompto said, once he realized Ignis was looking for verbal confirmation that Prompto had been listening.

“All right, now, protective gear. Don’t roll your eyes, Noct--goggles and earmuffs on, if you please.” Grumbling, Noct moved to the next partition over to retrieve an extra set as Ignis pulled out the supplied gear from below the counter he was working at. With the earmuffs on, Prompto could hear, but everything sounded, well, _muffled_. Ignis forwent the goggles in favor of his own glasses, but donned the earmuffs.

“How loud is it gonna be, exactly?” Prompto asked, worried, voice raised.

“Super loud!” Noct answered, earning himself a sharp look from both Ignis and Prompto.

“Not terribly loud, but safety first, and all,” Ignis said. He retrieved a target, and Prompto felt a surge of discomfort when he saw the human-shaped figure on the large sheet of paper. Then the target was being clipped in, and Ignis flipped a switch to send it flying across the room. Prompto could only watch now as the advisor squared his shoulders, raising the weapon and taking aim.

The pop made Prompto jump, but Ignis was right--it wasn’t really that loud. Then he realized the weapon was being offered to him, and he recoiled from it like Ignis was trying to hand him a live cobra.

“Come now, Prompto, it won’t bite,” Ignis said with just a touch of amusement.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it will,” Prompto countered. Still, he gingerly reached out and took the revolver, surprised by its weight. For a moment he just held it like it was a grenade that was about to explode. He saw Ignis’ hands twitch, and caught the uncertain look in the advisor’s eyes.

“May I?” Ignis asked, reaching out hesitantly. Prompto bit his lip again, and gave Ignis a nod, feeling his pulse start to jump again. “Here. Dominant hand on the grip--yes, like that. Then cup your right hand with your support hand. Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot, rest it outside of the ring.” Shivers raced across Prompto’s skin where Ignis’ fingers guided his own, and he fought to keep his composure, to remain casual. _I can handle this. I’m strong. Strong-ish._

Then Ignis was moving behind him, hands on Prompto’s shoulders as Ignis turned him to face the target. “Go on, raise it up and sight down the barrel. No, don’t lock your elbows.” Ignis pulled down on Prompto’s biceps until his elbows bent. Heat flashed through his body--Ignis was standing almost flush against his back-- _and he was so damn warm_ \--and touching him very _on purpose_. Prompto thanked whichever of the gods was watching this fiasco for making him put on earmuffs, because if he’d had Ignis whispering all of this gun stuff directly into his ear his soul would have detached from his body and flown straight into the fucking sun.

“W-when do I shoot?” Prompto asked, audibly nervous now.

“Whenever you’re ready. Are you-- _don’t_ close your eyes when you’re shooting a gun, I must stress the importance of having at least one eye open, Prompto.” Ignis still sounded amused. _At least one of us isn’t about to friggin burst into flames here_.

“You can do it, Prom! Teach that target who’s boss,” Noct called from somewhere behind them.

There was already a hole in the target--dead center in the paper man’s forehead. This time, Prompto shivered for a completely different reason. _Ignis did that. Sweet, kind Ignis could fucking kill someone if he had to. That’s what they’re going to make_ me _into_. Prompto suddenly wished he’d listened better to his parents.

“Prompto? You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.” He could barely hear Ignis’ voice this time, his voice low and laced with concern. His hands had moved up to Prompto’s shoulders, bracing against them.

“N-no, I’m fine,” Prompto said, taking in a shaky breath.

“All right, if you’re sure...Ease the hammer back, and when you’re ready, pull the trigger. The recoil is going to be stronger than you think, so be prepared.” So that was why he was holding Prompto in place. It was a comforting thought.

 _Okay, line up the shot. Just like shooting with a camera, right? No, fuck, it’s really not. Cameras don’t kill the things they shoot._ He sighted down the barrel, just like Ignis had said, and closed one eye, this time keeping the other open to aim.

When he pulled the trigger the revolver jumped in his grip, and he was so surprised he nearly dropped it. “I missed,” he said, oddly disappointed when he saw the hole he’d made just above the target’s shoulder.

“Noct didn’t even hit the paper the first time he did this, so you’re doing well in comparison,” Ignis told him, ignoring Noct’s indignant “hey!” as his grip tightened briefly on Prompto’s shoulders. “Try again.”

“Okay.” Again, he raised the revolver, and he adjusted his stance as he squared his shoulders like Ignis had done. This time, his shot hit the target dead in the chest, right where he’d been aiming. _Oh_.

“Impressive,” Ignis said, and Prompto felt him move away.

“Fluke,” Noct huffed, still disgruntled.

“Hush, Noctis,” Ignis chided him, then to Prompto he said, “I knew with your eye you’d have excellent aim. Go on, empty the cylinder.” Prompto sucked in a breath as he craned his neck around and saw the approving look gracing Ignis’ features. Almost like Ignis was proud of him, which was an absurd notion even if it made Prompto’s chest swell with delight.

The thought of having to shoot a person horrified him beyond belief, but what were the odds of that ever happening? _I can handle paper targets_ , he thought as he once more took aim. Not every shot was perfect, but he did better than he’d thought he would.

Ignis showed him how to open the cylinder, and how to take the weapon apart to clean it. Noct tried to show him how to summon a weapon, but that part was trickier as Prompto had never used magic before. “You’ll get it, dude. Don’t worry,” Noct told him at the end of the day when Prompto was worn out, fingers slippery with gun oil (and boy did that conjure up all sorts of naughty thoughts with Ignis standing two feet away from him).

“See you tomorrow then, bright and early?” Ignis said after Prompto had washed up. The three of them were nearing the entrance of the building, which was a part of the larger Citadel compound. Prompto hoped he remembered how to get back here tomorrow, and that he didn’t accidentally wind up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. Like the king’s bathroom, or someplace equally improbable.

“Not too early,” Noct said. He was insisting on going out, though all Prompto wanted to do was go home and go to bed.

“Now, we can’t go showing preferential treatment, Noct. Prompto actually needs to arrive on time, unlike a certain prince I know,” Ignis said, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he gave Prompto an understanding look. “To that end, I’d recommend not staying out very late tonight.”

“You’re a real killjoy, you know that, Specs?” Noct grumbled, but the insult was laced with subtle affection.

“I’m told it’s a part of my charm,” Ignis replied, and Prompto couldn’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Googled a lot of gun related stuff for this chapter, and boy lemme tell ya about Googling “gun oil”--there’s a lot of fuckin dick innuendos. “Gun Oil, the premium condom-safe lubricant that keeps a man’s most important weapon well-oiled--” and after that I started screaming and didn’t read the rest of the product description.
> 
> So, whichever NSA person is going through my search history rn, please note that I wasn’t looking up guns because I want a gun, it was just research for my homoerotic fanfiction which is now sponsored by Gun Oil brand personal lubricant. Y’know, for the sexy times. Lube that shit up, boys™.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took so long, you guys. I’ve been sick--again?? still???--all week. I had about 90% of this written, and then I came down with this ugly mess in my sinuses so I’ve been asleep a lot, and I still went to work but I honestly don’t remember if I actually did any work.
> 
> Anyway, this is another chapter that got away from me. I wanted something smutty to happen, but I guess it'll have to wait til next chapter. ¯\\_(ツ)_/ ¯

Training to serve as a member of Noct’s personal retinue meant long days at the Citadel--days which were exhausting, if not quite as painful as Prompto had been anticipating. Most days, he did wind up getting hit more than he'd have liked, but after the first two weeks he thought there was a noticeable difference in just how often the blows were landing on him.

Target practice was easily his most favored form of combat training. Prompto had always had a preference for doing things he was actually  _ good at,  _ versus performing any sort of challenging task. Challenges almost invariably meant failure, meant Prompto struggling to understand and complete something while other people were breezing right on through. Shooting things was easy, even when after only a few sessions they had him start on moving targets.  _ It's just like a carnival game, _ he told himself,  _ only the prize is being good at murder instead of a cute stuffed animal, I guess.  _

Prompto tried his best not to think of that. Despite the long days of rigorous training, and the sore, battered state of his body, he still didn't quite feel as though he were a real member of the Crownsguard. In his own mind he was just the prince's friend who'd been cajoled into joining up. To that end, he was sure that if it ever came to actual fighting, they wouldn't let someone like him even get involved. 

“Focus on self-defense,” was what Gladio told him. Ostensibly, Prompto was meant to be one of Noct’s personal bodyguards. Being ordered outright to look out for himself first just confirmed what he'd already suspected--nobody really expected him to be able to protect the prince. A part of him was wounded by the realization, but he wasn't really surprised.

Watching Noct work in the training yard made Prompto wonder if Noct needed any bodyguards at all. In high school, Noct had shown Prompto a few self-defense maneuvers, but for the most part Prompto had never seen his friend fight. Not even the dumbest bullies were dense enough to go after the crown prince, or that goofy blond kid who was always hanging around him.

It took about ten minutes for Prompto to pick his jaw up off the floor the first time he watched Noct warp-strike across a room and slice the head off a training dummy. And Noct, being Noct, was so casual about it, looking bored and almost half-asleep. He'd been trained in the use of basically every weapon known to man, and shrugged it all off like it was no big deal. Prompto had known about Noct’s skills--had listened to the prince complain about having to train often enough--but seeing him in action was something else. Shocking was a good word for it.

Gladio was less of a surprise. Seeing him swing around a sword that was bigger than Prompto’s whole body just kind of fit. Nobody got as beefed up as Gladio was just to walk around flexing and posing--okay maybe  _ some _ people did that, but Gladio definitely wasn't one of them. 

When Prompto showed some talent with using the heavy machine weapons, it was Gladio who dragged him off to the weight room for some personal strength training. Not that Prompto didn't appreciate the one-on-one attention, but Personal Trainer Gladio was like a combination of every overzealous gym teacher Prompto had ever had. And mostly not in a good way. Obviously Gladio was just being helpful in his usual, muscle-bound approach to handling things, but Prompto didn’t have his enthusiasm for getting jacked, apparently. 

“My arms are gonna fall off,” Prompto whimpered to Noct after the first such impromptu lesson with Gladio. 

Grinning evilly, Noct had patted him on the back and said, “Wait’ll he decides you're ready for sparring practice.” Prompto had considered quitting right then and there, but he knew if he did he'd be disappointing his best friend.  _ Ignis would probably be disappointed in me too, which is worse for some reason. I'd never be able to impress him if he thought I was a quitter _ .

Prompto had yet to see Ignis doing any training, though he spotted Ignis moving busily around the facility often enough. Always, Ignis was in the middle of doing something important, heading off to a meeting in Noct’s stead, or performing some other errand that left him looking harried and overworked. Seeing him in full Royal Advisor mode was something else; he looked almost like a different person, so much more severe, older than he was, more brusque and businesslike. He claimed not to have any time to dally about gossiping when somebody tried to catch his attention with something that wasn’t absolutely urgent, giving out stern looks when needed. Even so, he would stop mid-rush specifically to greet Prompto, to ask him how training was going, how his portfolio was coming along,  _ how are you Prompto, you're doing well I presume?  _

Encouraged by this exception-- _ he makes an exception for me _ \--more than once Prompto attempted to get Ignis to take a breather, asking as casually as he could manage if Ignis wanted to get lunch together, or if Ignis would like to see the new technique Prompto had just learned--anything, really. Each time, Ignis would ruefully but gently turn down the offer, his demeanor smoothing, softening around the edges until he closer resembled the Ignis that Prompto had grown used to. “Too much to do, I'm afraid,” Ignis would explain as Prompto tried not to appear crestfallen, “We're making preparations for the Oracle's visit, as well as...well, I should let Noct fill you in on the rest.” 

Unable to hide his curiosity, Prompto tried to press Ignis for details, but the advisor just smiled a bit tensely and said that Prompto would find out soon enough. 

So it was that on a rare day off, Prompto found himself whining, “Noct, is somebody gonna tell me what this big secret  _ thing  _ is that's gonna happen, or what?” 

Noct made a face, and deliberately stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth. The two of them were loitering around the food court of a large, outdoor mall. Gladio was lurking nearby reading a book, but Prompto knew from experience that the big guy was keeping a close eye on the crowds. 

“Come on, dude!” Prompto huffed, dropping down at one of the metal patio tables. “You said you'd tell me once I joined the Crownsguard.”

With a groan, Noct sat at the table, placing his paper tray of fries down with loving care. “Can't I tell you later? There's too many people around.”

“Nobody is gonna hear,” Prompto said, insistent. Between the noise of the crowds and the music playing over the P.A., it was loud enough in the food court to make their conversation indistinct. Noct always drew attention to himself when he was out and about, which he detested, but aside from some curious looks nobody was even paying attention to them right now.

“Just tell him, Noct,” Gladio said as he joined them at the table. “If you don't, I will.”

“Fine,” Noct grumbled, slouching in his seat. “Dad said they'd be making the announcement officially next week anyway.” Regardless of his acquiescence, Noct took a moment to nibble down a few more fries, as if he was gathering his thoughts. When he spoke, Prompto had to lean across the table to hear him. “The Nifs are coming at the same time as the Oracle.”

“What?!” Prompto squeaked, sitting up with a jolt. Noct looked distinctly unhappy with the declaration, glaring down at his now mostly empty tray. Of all people, Prompto knew Noct had the most reason to be displeased by the words, so the sour look was understandable. 

“It's a peace conference,” Gladio said casually, flipping his book shut and tucking it away inside his coat. “Healing old wounds and all that.”

“But…,” Prompto looked back and forth between Gladio and Noct, the latter openly sulking now.  _ This must be why Noct has been extra moody lately. Fuck, I don't blame him. _

“It's been ten years,” Gladio said, tone a little more forceful as his gaze focused on Noct. Prompto got the feeling they'd had this conversation before, and more than once. “The empire is dead. They deposed the emperor after Tenebrae, and Niflheim hasn't made a peep in the last decade since the disarmament. Things change, and we all need to move on.” 

_ Leave it to Gladio to rationalize something like this,  _ Prompto thought. The Shield wasn't exactly the type of guy to dwell on the past, but this…Now Prompto knew why Noct hadn't wanted to talk about this secret before.

“Whatever,” Noct said, still looking displeased. “Not like anyone gave  _ me  _ a choice in the matter. Wanna hit up the arcade, Prom?” With that abrupt segue Noct stood, not waiting for an answer, dumping his tray in the closest trash bin before striding off.

“He needs to get over it,” Gladio grumbled, more to himself than anything else, as he climbed to his feet. Prompto opened his mouth to object, then quickly shut it again. Arguing with Gladio was usually a moot point, particularly where Noct was concerned. Gladio treated Noct like a kid brother most of the time, but he also believed that literally everyone else went too easy on the prince. Everyone including Ignis, who bent over backwards for Noct.

_ Okay, maybe Gladio’s right. Kind of. Noct does basically get away with murder on a regular basis. _ Prompto had been subjected to more than a few of Gladio’s gruff lectures over the past few weeks, though. Enough to know that the big guy didn't hold back; even though the words were coming from a place of genuine concern, they still tended to be sorta harsh. Gladio said what he thought was needed rather than what people wanted to hear, be it praise or criticism.

By the time they caught up with Noct he was already shooting zombies at one of the game terminals at the arcade. The intense expression on his face told Prompto that Noct was venting his frustration on the game--it was one of the only outlets he really had to do so. Every undead creature he blasted probably had the imagined face of one of those creepy magic robots the empire had used back in the day.

Prompto leaned wordlessly against the machine, pretending to watch the game. He could see Gladio outside the entrance, lounging on a bench with his book open again; he must have been too annoyed to join them. 

Noct wouldn't talk about how he was feeling, not here, maybe not even when they were alone. Sighing, Prompto raised a hand and set it casually on his friend's shoulder, applying subtle pressure. After a moment, he could feel some of the tension fall away underneath his palm. Noct remained silent, but Prompto could tell the gesture was appreciated. 

“So,” Prompto said once a few minutes had passed and Noct was fully absorbed in zombie slaying, “Everything else aside, I'll bet you're pretty stoked to see Lady Lunafreya again."

The slightest hint of pink crept high across Noct’s cheeks, but he scowled in an attempt to hide it. “I guess.”

Grinning, Prompto squeezed his friend's shoulder. “Come on, you haven't seen her in forever. I mean, what're you gonna say to her?”

Noct pulled his gaze away from the game long enough to glare at Prompto, who just continued grinning pleasantly. “I dunno,” he mumbled after a moment, eyes dropping down to the controls. It sounded like an admission, like he was truly at a loss.

“Aw, I'm sure you'll think of something, buddy,” Prompto told him, consoling. Then his expression became sly. “If all else fails, I'm sure Ignis will think of something romantic for you to say.”

“Shut up, I don't need Specs to hold my hand through everything, ya know,” Noct retorted, glowering, tapping buttons rapidly.

“You sure about that? He  _ is  _ a lot smarter than you,” Prompto said. Of course, the same could be said about almost anyone in comparison to Ignis.

“Pfft.” Noct shrugged Prompto’s hand off his shoulder, and Prompto leaned forward just enough to be in Noct’s personal bubble.

“Like,  _ a lot _ smarter,” he said.

“Shut it,” Noct fairly growled. Zombies heads were exploding left and right on the screen. 

“Not to mention more likable and better dressed,” Prompto added thoughtfully, snickering as Noct’s scowl deepened.

“All right, I get it,” Noct huffed. “You know I’m gonna remember this the next time you come whining to me about some girl who doesn't even know you exist, right?”

Prompto felt his smirk widen at the same time the slightest prickle of heat washed across his face. “I dunno, man. I'm not as hopeless as  _ some _ people.”

Noct actually laughed at that, a rare sound, and Prompto knew he'd succeeded in cheering his friend up. 

“Ah, shit,” Noct said a moment later, watching helplessly as the player character on screen was swarmed by undead. “You distracted me,” he accused, though he was still grinning, “And I'm all out of guys. Do you want--why are you all red?”

Prompto bit his lip as another wave of heat flushed through him, averting his gaze. “I'm not,” he denied, voice cracking treacherously.  _ Fuck, total backfire _ . Not for the first time he cursed his ridiculously pale skin--even the slightest blush lit him up like a neon sign, and there was no hiding it. 

He could feel Noct’s gaze on him, could practically hear Noct replaying their conversation in his head as he tried to figure out why Prompto was blushing so furiously now.

“Oh,” he said, grin turning into something teasing as realization dawned. “Oh, I get it.”

“You don't get anything. There's nothing to be gotten,” Prompto said hurriedly.

“Yeah, okay.” Noct rolled his eyes and jabbed Prompto in the ribs with an elbow. “So what's her name? Or his name?”

Again, Prompto felt his blush deepening, and he quickly turned, heading for the exit. Noct was one of the few people that knew Prompto had no real preference in terms of gender, but that didn't mean he was ready to admit anything. Not here and now, leastways.

“Guess,” was all he said, and heard Noct snort as he hurried to catch up.

“Come on, dude. Is it someone I know?” Noct hooked an arm around Prompto’s shoulders, stopping him in his tracks right outside the arcade. “Gimme a hint.”

“No way,” Prompto said with feigned annoyance, pursing his lips as he met Noct’s smug look with an even glare. “You’ll just use whatever I say to get revenge for me teasing you about Lady Lunafreya. I'm not giving you any ammunition.”

“Ammo for what now?” Gladio asked, standing up from his bench as he tucked his book away again.

“Prompto has a crush and he won't tell me who it is,” Noct said plaintively. 

Gladio made a noise of disgust, hooked his hands on his own waist. “What're you, twelve? Why do you care?”

“How else am I gonna make fun of him?” Noct countered. Prompto made a noise of objection, glowering as Gladio’s expression turned thoughtful. 

“Good point. Carry on, then.”

“Forget it! I'm not telling you guys shit!” Prompto declared as he squirmed free of Noct’s hold. 

“Gladio, you pin him down and I'll mess up his hair,” Noct said. Prompto squawked in protest and made a run for it, dodging toward the safety of the nearest kiosk. 

_ Nope, not gonna happen _ , he thought as he flashed an innocent smile at a suspicious salesperson. Normally Prompto could have withstood the teasing, and he knew Noct didn't mean any harm. At the same time, this thing with Ignis just didn't feel like an ordinary crush. Even now he actually  _ missed _ Ignis, missed his warm smiles, missed just being in the same room with him. They had just spoken yesterday, briefly, and it was preposterous, absurd for Prompto to feel the way he did. But he couldn't help it. He wished Ignis were here with them, laughing at Prompto’s dumb jokes and chiding them for being too loud, instead of having to be stuck in meetings all day. Again. It really was totally unfair. 

“You're really not gonna tell me?” Noct asked, hours later as they were heading home, the three of them all crammed into Noct’s car. 

Prompto didn't need to ask what Noct was talking about, even though he'd dropped the issue earlier. “Maybe,” he said, glancing at Gladio in the side view mirror. The big guy was in the back seat, eyes closed, though Prompto doubted he was actually sleeping. “Not right now. It's...complicated.”

He heard Gladio’s scoff, and rolled his eyes. Noct shrugged, and his expression was flat, almost bored when Prompto risked a glance at him. “All right. If you're gonna be dramatic about it, that's your business.” 

Smiling, Prompto reached out with his fist and lightly shoved Noct’s shoulder. Noct’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly in response.

“Just trying to add a little mystery to your life, pal,” Prompto said. 

“Yeah, like I need any more of  _ that _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lov you guys (-□-)︵*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had accidentally deleted the original text of this chapter, reposted it with a different edited version because I didn't save my first copy, then a few of my readers let me know they had the original version saved and offered to send it to me. I'm honestly so relieved and grateful, tikimoof on tumblr was the one who sent me the original chapter 9 text, and censuradies also had a copy saved and offered to send it, so thanks to both of you! 
> 
> I'm still bummed I lost all the original comments on the chapter, like you guys send me the nicest messages. But I'm glad I got the original back and I'm going to make sure to save copies of everything going forward. Like I literally posted the chapter and then closed my word document without saving like "lalala, waht do i need this for lol????" Past me was a fool. 
> 
> Anyway, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“How is the fit? Not too tight or loose anywhere?” Dustin asked as he straightened the collar of Prompto’s new vest.

“Yeah, it feels fine,” Prompto said shortly, made antsy by Dustin’s fussing.  _Worse than my mom_ , he thought, who was always trying to fix Prompto’s shirt tags or touching his hair right after he'd finished styling it. “What d’you think, Noct?”

Noct, who was leaning against the wall and staring at his phone, gave a thumbs up. “Looks hot,” he said, without tearing his gaze away from whatever game he was playing.

“Yeah, looks dope?” Prompto asked, fighting a grin as Dustin finally stepped back.

“Uh-huh,” Noct agreed distractedly. “You're gonna slay at the Crownsguard fashion show.”

“Oh is that what I've been doing all this training for?” Prompto asked, “You'd think I'd get some ambient fashion montage music playing at all times if that's the case.”

“Can't have you vogueing all over the place, distracting everyone.”

Dustin was beginning to look mildly exasperated again as he stood there listening to them. “Take a look in the mirror, if you'd like,” Dustin said, gesturing to a cabinet against the wall, clearly in a hurry to get the two young men out of his office. There was a mirror hung on the inside of the cabinet door that Prompto pulled open, and he took a moment to admire his new uniform.

Everything fit perfectly, from the boots to the fitted jeans, to the vest and tank top. He'd never had any clothing tailor-made just for him, and this more than anything made him begin to feel like he might actually be able to do this. I could actually pass for a real Crownsguard, he thought. Hell, if it was enough to fool even him, then he could probably convince just about anyone else that he belonged here.  _Until I open my big dumb mouth, that is_.

There came a knock at the door, but before Dustin could answer it swung open. Prompto felt a thrill go through him at the sight of Ignis reflected in the mirror behind him. “Ignis!” he said, spinning to face his friend with his arms held out, “What d’you think? It's a Look, right?”

Ignis was clearly taken aback by the unexpected and enthusiastic question. “Oh, you…,” Ignis said, blinking as he slowly took in Prompto’s new uniform, those lovely green eyes looking him carefully up and down. Against his will, Prompto’s face began to warm under the oddly intense scrutiny.  _He’s not checking me out, he’s just…looking at me. Like I have anything he’d even want to check out._ “You look very official,” Ignis finally declared, his mouth stretching gradually into a smile.

“I know, right?” Prompto beamed up at him, heart somersaulting in his chest. It should be illegal for him to smile like that, sweet Six. The compliment might have been a bit understated, but Prompto reveled in the slight praise. I should really just change my middle name to Desperate, at this point.

Someone took that moment to clear their throat, and Prompto started when he realized that Ignis hadn't entered the room alone.  _Wow, tunnel vision, much? How gone am I for this dude?_  Prompto was pretty sure that forgetting there were other people in the room was something that only happened in cliche romance movies. _I guess that's my life now._

Then he saw just who was standing behind Ignis, and an entirely different kind of thrill went through him. “Ah, yes, Prompto, I'd like to introduce you to the commander of the Crownsguard, Cor Leonis,” Ignis said, stepping aside to let the other man into the room.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” the marshal said as he strode forward, holding a hand out for Prompto to shake.

_The Immortal!_  Prompto thought, staring dumbly at the outstretched hand for several seconds before remembering to take it. “Y-you too, sir! It's an honor!” Noct snorted from somewhere behind him, but Prompto ignored the noise.  _He’s the Immortal, and he's actually looking at me! He knows my name now!_

Prompto might not follow politics or current events as much as he should, but everyone knew who Cor the Immortal was.  _He's the commander of the entire Crownsguard, the guy who survived sticking it to the Nifs like a million times!_

Cor exuded an air of calm control, but Prompto thought the marshal might have had the barest hint of a smile on his face. “I understand that your training has been a bit unconventional and accelerated due to current circumstances,” said Cor, “I'd like to see how you're coming along, so today you'll be accompanying me on patrol around the city.”

Prompto felt a dizzying wave of both horror and excitement wash through him at the prospect. “Y-yes, sir. That would be,” he stopped to swallow hard, “that would be great.”

“Very good,” Cor said. “I'll meet you in the motor pool in half an hour, then.” With nods to each of them, and a brief bow to the prince, Cor turned and left the room.

Not surprisingly, Prompto spent the next thirty minutes babbling uncontrollably. Noct had to drag him out of Dustin’s office while Ignis trailed behind. “I dunno if I can cope with this, I mean he's the Immortal, and I'm just some kid, like what do I even say to him? Does he usually do this kinda thing even?”

“Not usually, no,” Ignis replied, and there was something off in his tone. Something almost cold, businesslike. “But you're going to be guarding His Highness, so he wishes to oversee your progress personally.”

“Oh,” Prompto said, enthusiasm dimmed somewhat by Ignis’ sudden shift in demeanor. He smiled at me not even five minutes ago, and now he's all business. Did I say something wrong? Prompto couldn't imagine what, and he didn't have time to dwell on it. “I mean, it’s just kind of...I dunno, it’s really cool, is all,” he said a bit meekly.

Ignis sighed, and almost looked apologetic, but before he could say anything else Noct groaned and said, “We get it, all right? You love the guy, he’s your hero, now come here a sec.” Sputtering, Prompto joined Noct in a small alcove, where the prince spent several minutes drilling him on summoning his weapons. It was something he'd honestly been struggling with since the beginning. Prompto wasn't very magically inclined, and Noct’s coaching often left him feeling frustrated and stressed out. Sure, magic was easy as breathing for the prince, but Prompto couldn't follow all that metaphysical mumbo jumbo. Even now, he still didn't really get how it worked, letting Noct’s magic flow through him and all that, but more often than not he could call his weapons to hand. In the end, that was the important thing, he thought.

As they reached the motor pool, Prompto had worked himself into a state that could only be described as a tizzy. Inside his fancy new gloves, his palms were sweaty, and his chest felt tight. He had to resist the urge to tug at his shirt collar, afraid of stretching it out if he did so.

“Dude, chill,” Noct told him, like it was that easy. They were a few minutes early, but Prompto could see Cor leaning against one of the official Crownsguard vehicles, already waiting for him.

_I can do this_ , he thought, though even the voice in his head didn't sound convinced. They'd already told him before what to expect on patrol and how to conduct himself, but he hadn't thought he'd be getting a real life crash course from the commander of the Crownsguard himself. Just try to keep your mouth shut unless he asks you something, and don't say anything stupid. The marshal didn't know yet what a dumbass Prompto was, and hopefully he'd never find out.  _Man, wouldn't that be the fucking worst, if we came back and he kicked me out of the Crownsguard for incompetence._

Apparently, he was doing a poor job of reining in his trepidation, because he saw Noct roll his eyes and heard a heavy sigh from Ignis.

“Prompto.” A hand landed softly on his shoulder, and Prompto turned nervously to face Ignis. A few seconds ticked by where Ignis just stared at him, expression unreadable. Then something went soft around his eyes and he said, “You'll be fine. The marshal knows you're inexperienced; he won't ask anything of you that he doesn't feel you're ready to face.”

Releasing a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding, Prompto managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Ignis.”

A look he couldn't decipher flashed across Ignis’ face, and his hand tightened slightly on Prompto’s shoulder. “Just do as Cor says, and you'll be fine,” he said, voice low, “And just...do be careful, yes?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Prompto said, nodding. A mad urge seized him, and he felt a twitch go through his entire body as he just barely held himself back from leaning up to kiss Ignis on the cheek. For the second time in a week, his skin flushed red from toe to tip and he hurriedly blurted out that he had to go, right now.

“Have fun, buddy!” Noct called after him as he scurried away to join Cor, Ignis watching him go with a bemused expression. Gods, I really need to get a grip. And of course, now he got to be stuck in a car all day with a national hero, all while he was going to be thinking nonstop about how soft Ignis’ skin would have felt under his lips.

At least Cor didn't ask him to drive. The last thing Prompto needed was to die in a fiery explosion because his horny little brain couldn't stop thinking about Ignis for five seconds.

_I'll be fine once we're out there_ , he told himself as he buckled himself in beside Cor.  _Out of sight, out of mind, right? Right._

X

The day seemed to stretch on endlessly as Cor drove Prompto through the city, but when it was finally over the end seemed abrupt and unexpected. Truth be told, Prompto wasn't even exactly sure what the Crownsguard did in terms of patrol. As it turned out, they behaved much like the city guard, only instead of chasing down traffic violations and responding to domestic disturbances, they did a lot of...watching.

After the first couple of hours Prompto felt his nerves slowly being replaced by boredom. He did his best to be attentive to everything Cor was telling him, and wracked his brain for questions to ask so the marshal wouldn't write him off as a total dunce.

As the commander of the Crownsguard, Cor could go wherever he wanted, but most of their number were assigned specific duties. “You'll be guarding the prince, so you won't be doing much patrolling, but you'll need to know how to recognize suspicious activity,” Cor explained. Prompto still wasn't really sure he understood what constituted “suspicious activity,” even after spending a day with the marshal. He imagined the bad guys in real life weren't going to look objectively menacing, standing around in trench coats and twirling long moustaches.

According to Cor, the most obvious signs he should be on the lookout for were anybody who seemed overly shifty and anxious, somebody who looked like they were somewhere they shouldn't be.  _Okay, but that describes me, like, ninety percent of the time._

Needless to say, by the end of the day he was feeling thoroughly wrung out. They had been all over the city, and Cor had introduced him to numerous Crownsguard stationed throughout. Prompto still couldn't believe the marshal had taken a personal interest in him like that, but he was too tired to stammer and fidget when they finally returned to the Citadel and parted ways. He imagined that once he was well rested he’d be bursting to tell his parents all about his ride-along with the Immortal, but for now he was just grateful the day was over.

“You did well today, Prompto,” said the marshal before they climbed out of the car back at the Citadel. Prompto wasn't really sure he'd done anything worth praising, but he thanked Cor all the same.

Now that the day was done, all Prompto wanted to do was get his stuff from his locker and go home. Just as he reached the locker rooms he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He debated even looking at it for about half a second; instinctively he knew it was Noct, and he didn't especially feel like being cajoled into going out drinking tonight.

**Noct** : you back yet?  
**Noct** : come to the outside yard when you get here

Sighing, Prompto turned on his heel and headed toward the rear of the building. Someone had propped the door open; he could hear the sounds of people sparring even before he rounded the corner and saw the training yard through the opening. Noct was visible, standing with his back to the door, though he glanced over his shoulder when he heard Prompto approaching.

“All right, what do you want?” Prompto asked with feigned annoyance as he stepped outside and joined his friend. He caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye of what could only be Gladio storming across the yard after a much leaner and quicker figure, but Noct spoke and stole his attention.

“I can't ask my best friend how his day was?” Noct said, plaintive.

“You could, but I know that's not why you wanted me to come out here,” Prompto said, leaning in to bump their shoulders together.

Noct smirked ever-so-briefly and said, “Gladio is miffed he didn't get a chance to wail on you today. He wanted to get you when you got back, but Specs talked him out of it.”

“Oh? Good, because if he tried to wrassle me now I'd keel over dead,” Prompto said.

“Yeah, well now he's taking it out on Ignis, so you should probably thank him at some point. Anyway, I got that new game I was telling you about--wanna come over tonight and get your virtual ass kicked?”

“I mean, that sounds fun and all, but I'm not gonna be the one getting...my ass...uh.” Prompto trailed off as what Noct had said finally registered and he realized just who the fast, spry figure was that Gladio was harrying across the yard.

Prompto never would have guessed in his wildest--and dirtiest--fantasies that Ignis could move like that. He was wearing the training uniform, but he'd shed the shirt and was fighting in just a tank top. Sweat glistened across his skin and made the fabric cling in the best and worst possible way. Prompto could see more of Ignis bared than he'd ever dared hope--his strong arms and shoulders, his sharp collarbones, his chest, sculpted and heaving as he twisted away from the practice sword Gladio was swinging around.

_Sweet Six almighty_. Prompto was suddenly very hot all over; his stomach was flip-flopping dangerously, and he could feel electric shivers racing across his skin. Ignis did some sort of one handed flip backwards, twisting in the air like a  _godsdamned gymnast_ , and Prompto felt lightheaded as the most dizzying surge of pure lust he'd ever experienced punched him right in the gut.

“Uh, Prom?” A hand waving in front of his face gave Prompto a start, and he realized Noct was looking at him with concern.

“Wha--,” Prompto paused, swallowed down the creak in his voice and tried again. “What's up?”

“You kinda spaced there,” Noct said. “You feeling okay? You're, like, glaring at Gladio and Specs. He wasn't really gonna beat your ass, y'know. I was just kidding.”

Prompto realized his expression had gone intense, focused, as he'd watched Ignis. For what had to be the umpteenth time his skin blazed hot, all because of Ignis, this time with desire as well as embarrassment.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, tearing his gaze away from Ignis-- _he's so fucking beautiful, how the fuck even_ \--to try and flash Noct a reassuring smile. “No worries, man. Just tired, is all.”

Noct didn't look like he quite believed Prompto. The prince looked over at Gladio and Ignis--Prompto didn't dare follow his line of sight this time--then turned his gaze back to Prompto. Panic began to simmer beneath Prompto’s skin as something akin to suspicion began to creep across Noct’s face, and he hurriedly cleared his throat. “Right, so I'm gonna hit the showers. See ya, pal!” He tried injecting some of his usual brightness into the words, but it sounded flat even to his ears.

Without so much as a backward glance, Prompto turned and fled from the yard. He thought Noct might have called after him, but he pretended not to hear. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m dead. I’m fucking dead. It was as if somebody had flipped a proverbial switch, and just like that all of the mostly innocent crushing Prompto had been doing lately was transmuted. The inside of his head had been converted into his own private porno theater, starring one Ignis Scientia who was too hot for this godsdamned world.

Prompto was panting by the time he reached the locker room again, flushed and agitated and so fucking turned on he could hardly see straight.  _Shower_ , he thought,  _cold shower_. Luckily, the locker room appeared to be empty, so he grabbed a towel and headed for the showers. There were communal showers, and a few private stalls--Prompto opted for the latter. He had enough presence of mind to know that he didn't want anybody to see him in his current...condition.

They were supposed to strip at their lockers, leaving their uniforms hung up neatly while they wrapped a towel around their waists. Prompto dumped his clothing on the floor outside of the stall, unmindful of potential wrinkles. He whimpered as he unbuckled his pants, easing the discomforting restriction of the too-tight fabric.  _I hope nobody could see my fucking dick through my jeans_ , he thought. When was the last time he'd gotten such an intense and untimely boner in public? Probably not since his mid-teens, when he'd been horny about eighty-seven percent of the time.  _Yeah, now it's only about sixty percent of the time, unless Ignis is somersaulting around half-dressed. Then all bets are off._

Stepping under the cool stream of water took some of the edge off, but Prompto could still feel his heart pounding uncomfortably fast in his chest. Between his legs his cock was throbbing, desperate; he wanted so badly to just be  _touched_ , the need itself made him shudder. Ignis doesn't even know that he's killing me like this, Prompto thought with a whimper. The image of sweaty, limber Ignis wouldn't stop replaying over and over in his head.

_Don't do it, not here, don't you fucking dare_. Sounds echoed in the locker room, so he was sure he'd know if he was no longer alone. Common sense warred with desire, and it the end, desire won out. A landslide victory, really.

As he took himself in hand he rationalized that it wasn't as if this was the first time he'd thought of Ignis like this. Usually he was alone, at home, behind a locked door though. And the scenes that played behind his eyelids were fleeting fantasies, not this vivid, visceral imagery. When he closed his eyes he could visualize Ignis standing under the cool spray with him, and it was Ignis’ hand that began to work him, drawing out those needy noises.

_Hush now. You don't want anyone to hear, do you?_

“Oh, fuck!” Prompto hissed. Even imagined, Ignis’ voice sent jolts of pleasure racing up and down Prompto’s length. He knew he wasn't going to last long, not like this. He squeezed himself, adding much needed pressure to each stroke, and sucked in a breath when he felt that telltale tightening in his balls and lower belly.

For a split second he considered reaching around behind himself, knowing it would help speed things up if he could slip a finger or two inside of himself. But even the thought was too much, making his cock throb hard in his hand, and he needed his free hand to cover his mouth besides.

_Too loud,_ he thought, clenching his teeth together even as he clamped said hand over his mouth. Bracing his back against the cool tile of the stall, he sped up his hand, trying to finish quickly. Pleasure was making his head spin, and he still felt hot all over in spite of the tepid water. Behind his hand his voice hummed completely beyond his control--he was always noisy, but usually not to this degree. Especially not when he was by himself.

When he came, it was like a shock went through him. His vision went white for what could only have been a few seconds, but he felt dazed when he finally blinked down and saw the mess he’d made being washed down the drain on the floor. Shaking, he pushed away from the wall and forced himself to stand underneath the cold spray until he felt chilled and any remaining aftershocks had subsided. It was almost as if he was atoning for what he’d just done, and maybe he was.  _Pathetic_ , he thought.  _I’m absolutely pathetic._

It was a dark thought, more so than his usual self-deprecation.  _It’s never gonna happen like that_ , he thought. Ignis was nice to him, was a friend, but Prompto couldn’t imagine that the advisor to the future king would ever be interested in some common nobody. Not the way I want him. Gods I want him. Prompto wanted Ignis in every conceivable way it was possible to want somebody—not just physically, but as something more than a friend, something romantic and ultimately impossible. _It’ll never happen. I know it won’t._  But knowing that would do nothing to dispense with this terrible wanting he felt. He wasn’t sure that anything would at this point.

**Prompto** : heading home, not feeling well  
**Noct** : do you need a ride?  
**Prompto** : no it’s fine, i’ll see you tomorrow  
**Noct** : all right, if you’re sure  
**Prompto** : i am, thanks buddy

He’d waited until he was already outside of the Citadel to text Noct, just in case his friend insisted. Having to face any of his friends after…well, he didn’t think he’d be able to look Ignis in the eyes for a couple of days at least. Not without melting into a puddle of shame.

Just as he was taking a seat on the train, his phone buzzed again. When he pulled it out of his pocket and saw the message was from Ignis he nearly dropped the phone like it was a hot coal.  _It’s just a text. He can’t see you, you coward._

**Ignis** : Noct said you weren’t feeling well.  
**Ignis** : Would you like me to bring you anything?

Prompto had to close his eyes and bite his lip as an awful ache rolled through his chest. Great, now I feel even worse. Of course Ignis would be worried about him; Ignis took care of everyone, even if Noct was his primary focus. He couldn’t seem to help himself, so upon hearing that Prompto was unwell, naturally his first instinct would be to ask if there was anything he could do to help.

**Prompto** : that’s okay, I think I’m just overtired  
**Ignis** : You’re certain? It would be no trouble.  
**Prompto** : yeah, I’m sure  
**Prompto** : thanks Ignis  
**Ignis** : You’re welcome. Let me know if you change your mind.  
**Ignis** : And if you need to take a day off to rest then please do so.  
**Prompto** : says the guy who never takes a day off  
**Ignis** : I would, if I didn’t think I’d come back to find the entire city in ruin.  
**Prompto** : in one day??  
**Ignis** : Noctis once attempted to make himself Poptarts in the toaster and nearly burned down his apartment.  
**Prompto** : touché  
**Ignis** : I mean it, though. Your health is important.  
**Prompto** : yeah yeah, I’ll be fine  
**Prompto** : thanks for looking out for me tho  
**Ignis** : Anytime.

_I don’t deserve to have a friend like you, much less anything more than that,_ Prompto thought. He tucked his phone away and covered his face with his hands. This was becoming unbearable. In all of his twenty years he’d never been so intensely attracted to anyone, and he didn’t quite know how to handle it. Should he suffer in silence, wait and see if he would get over it? The idea would have been laughable if it didn’t make him feel physically ill. _I can’t just sit around pining after him forever. I won’t survive. Which leaves me with one option._

_I’m gonna have to tell him how I feel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks fer stoppin by


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long you guys! I stressed myself out with that drama over the last chapter like the weenie I am. It all worked out in the end tho, and I got the lost chapter text back (see my note on chapter 9 for details). It’s really long, tho, so hopefully that makes up for the wait. I wanted to get all of this out there because frankly I'm impatient. I debated splitting it in two, but I don’t wanna. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for hanging in there! Enjoy, my dudes ;)

Three days after what he was mentally referring to as the Shower Incident, Prompto woke up feeling sore and miserable. He didn't feel like going for a run, nor did he feel up to taking his camera out for a few quick shots of the sunrise. In fact, he didn't feel like getting out of bed very much at all.  _ Great, I'm turning into Noct, _ he thought, laying on his back and staring blankly up at the ceiling in the semi-dark. When he was a kid his dad had gotten him a pack if those glow-in-the-dark stars that you stuck up on the ceiling, and a few of them were still up there. Even after a decade they continued to glow valiantly. 

_ Mom is right, I should get up there and scrape the rest off. _ The thought had crossed his mind a dozen times before, but he just never got around to it. As he lay there, having hit snooze on his alarm for the third time, he wondered what Ignis would think of all the childish things Prompto still had laying around his room. Things he didn't have the heart to get rid of, like some of his favorite action figures, a beat up old teddy bear with an ugly stain on its head from when he'd spilled yogurt on it, hell even the Power Ranger sheets that were on his bed right now were embarrassing.  _ He'd probably think I'm an immature dork who needs to grow up. _

Groaning, he finally pushed himself up as his alarm sounded for the fourth time. By that point he was really pushing it, making himself dangerously close to running late. One quick shower later he was pulling on his Crownsguard duds and then heading out the door. His hair had been perhaps too hastily coiffed, and he hadn't even bothered with the eyeliner he usually drew on to hide how pink he could get around the eyes.  _ One Hot Mess Prompto, coming right up.  _

There was a food cart at the train station where he stopped to buy a cup of terrible coffee and a bagel, since he hadn’t given himself time to make breakfast. A few people on the train gave him odd looks as he sat balancing a cup of coffee between his legs while he spread cream cheese from a little packet on his bagel.  _ Like this is the weirdest thing you've ever seen someone do on the subway,  _ he thought with sleepy sarcasm. 

He tried his best to pay them no mind; whenever he wore his uniform outside the Citadel he tended to draw stares anyway. Were they looking because they were impressed, or because they couldn't believe some scrawny, baby-faced, foreign-looking kid was a member of the Crownsguard?  _ Probably happier not knowing the answer to that.  _ At least the bagel tasted pretty good, even washed down with burnt-flavored coffee that made his tongue curl. That was the only positive thing he had going for him that day thus far.

Prompto arrived at the Citadel feeling only half-awake and still a little battered from the day before. Yesterday, they had finally started him on self-defense training, which was something he'd been dreading. What made it worse was that his instructor for the day had been Clarus Amicitia, Gladio’s brick-wall-esque, no-nonsense father (Prompto had made an anxious peeping noise when they'd squared off together, and he was sure Gladio would never let him live it down).

Somehow, the senior Amicitia was even more hardcore into all this training stuff than Gladio was; he demanded Prompto’s best effort and hadn't let up until he was satisfied. Now Prompto felt like a human punching bag, too sore to raise his arms above his head, and his usual energetic demeanor was much diminished.  _ Maybe I should have stayed home, like Ignis said _ . 

Gladio had already teasingly called him a wuss about a dozen times since he'd begun all this training, though. Prompto didn't want to make anyone think he couldn't hack it by hiding in bed all day. _ If I get lucky maybe Gladio’s dad will knock me into a nice, relaxing coma for a few days.  _ That way nobody could accuse him of avoiding his responsibilities. Gladio might even congratulate him for sustaining such a serious injury. 

_ Speaking of avoiding.  _ Prompto was two steps inside of the Crownsguard facility when he quite literally bumped into Ignis. Ignis, who he still couldn't manage to look in the eye for more than a second or two. Any longer than that had him remembering a glistening, agile Ignis, and a cool shower stall that Prompto had defiled with his inability to control his raging need to be fucked. 

“Oh, Prompto, my apologies,” Ignis said with a bit of a start when their shoulders collided. Prompto immediately felt himself go warm when he looked up and saw Ignis adjusting his glasses, looking out of sorts. 

“S’my fault,” Prompto mumbled, still in a bit of a sleepy daze, though embarrassment and longing were quickly cutting through his groggy state. “Wasn't looking where I was going.” He risked another quick glance up at Ignis and saw that the advisor was wearing a smile that would have been sheepish on anyone else. 

“That makes two of us, I'm afraid,” Ignis said, nodding to indicate the small notebook he held in his hand. It was the same one Prompto had seen him writing in plenty of times before. Or maybe it was a different one, and Ignis just bought the same style over and over. He'd seemed to have had the same notebook/day planner thing for years. Either way, the thing was well-used, bristling with sticky tabs and with post-its.  _ Don't they make electronic planners? And smart phones?  _ Maybe Ignis just preferred to keep track of things the old-fashioned way. It was endearing in a way, another facet of Ignis to add the list of reasons why Prompto liked him so much. 

“Got a meeting to go to?” Prompto asked, hating how awkward he sounded. Talking to Ignis had become so easy of late. Nothing like when they'd first met and Prompto had been shy and nervous around the intimidating and serious royal advisor. Fifteen year old Prompto would never have believed that one day he'd be head-over-heels for Ignis,  _ and too embarrassed to talk to him because I can't stop having dirty thoughts about us together. _

“I've  _ always _ a meeting to go to,” Ignis said with just a touch of dry exasperation.

“Oh. Right. Well, I don't wanna keep you,” Prompto said, shuffling to the side to let Ignis past. 

Ignis’ voice made him freeze in place. “A moment, Prompto.” 

Working up the last reserves of courage he had, Prompto managed to lift his gaze and look Ignis in the eye. With a sinking feeling, he thought he knew exactly what Ignis wanted to talk to him about. To his surprise, instead of hurt or annoyance--what he'd been expecting after three days of avoiding speaking to Ignis--he saw worry writ clearly across Ignis’ face.

“You haven't seemed quite yourself these past few days,” Ignis said, voice pitched low so as not to carry, “Are you...is everything all right?”

Taken aback by the gentle concern in his friend's voice, Prompto could only blink up at Ignis for a moment. On some level he'd been expecting something more confrontational. Ignis wasn't one to mince words, and Prompto had seen Ignis’ more direct and demanding side more than once--and had found the commanding tone of Ignis’ voice to be  _ very  _ fucking hot.  _ Oh gods, shut the fuck up you horny little goblin. Focus for once in your life. _

“I'm...I'm fine Ignis, really,” Prompto began, and he could tell as Ignis’ expression shifted that the advisor didn't believe him. Before Ignis could argue or insist, Prompto quickly added, “Look...I guess I'm still getting used to all this training. Maybe I'm just pushing myself too hard. I thought I was in pretty decent shape, but I guess jogging a couple miles in the morning doesn't measure up to going ten rounds against Gladio.” 

That was the last excuse he’d wanted to resort to; admitting any kind of weakness when he so badly wanted to be  _ good enough _ . But it was better than blurting out how badly he wanted to get in Ignis’ pants.  _ No way I'm telling him here, now. _ At some point, somehow, he had to figure out a way to get Ignis alone where they wouldn't be interrupted and just lay it all out.  _ Then prepare to have my heart stomped on _ . Because no matter how gentle the rejection might be, Prompto knew it would hurt. Hopefully it would just be less painful than this ceaseless, pitiful wanting.

Ignis’ vibrant, green eyes searched his for a moment, and Prompto carefully held his gaze, hoping none of his desperation shone through. “If that's all it is then perhaps I'll ask Lord Amicitia and Gladio to tone it down a bit.” He held up a hand to forestall any argument as Prompto opened his mouth to do just that. “They won't think any less of you for it, Prompto. Sometimes they simply forget that not all of us possess the constitution of a small mountain.” There was a smile tugging at Ignis’ lips as he finished speaking, and Prompto was surprised to find himself returning the expression.

“Are you a busybody like this with everyone?” Prompto asked, still grinning. 

Ignis chuckled, taking the question as it was meant. “Only with the people I like,” he said, eyes twinkling. Prompto felt his stomach flip-flop, and had to force himself not to look away in embarrassment. Ignis, however, was already looking down at his watch and frowning, completely oblivious to Prompto’s internal struggle. “Drat,” Ignis muttered. “Sorry to cut our time short, but I must be going. I'll speak with you later?” The look he gave Prompto was expectant and...no, it couldn't be _ hopeful. _

“O-oh, yeah,” Prompto managed to stutter out. “See ya.” 

_ Would it be too much to ask for Ramuh to strike me down? _ At least, Prompto thought, that encounter hadn't been as awkward as he'd been fearing. He'd thought he'd get one look at Ignis’ face and immediately start imagining all the naughty things he'd like for Ignis to do to him. Instead, it was almost as though speaking to Ignis had grounded Prompto, reminded him that the man in real life was better than any fantasy.  _ Even if we weren't both naked. _

_ Stop that, _ he thought, giving himself a light smack to the forehead. Ignis was gone now, off to his meeting, and if Prompto didn't hurry then  _ he  _ would be late and Gladio might make him do pull-ups until his arms fell off.  _ Maybe letting Ignis tell him to chill wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.  _

_ X _

_ “ _ A bar? Dude, it's  _ Thursday," _ Prompto groaned from his prone position. Morning warm-ups with Gladio had left him feeling noodly; he was currently stretched out on a decorative bench waiting for every muscle in his body to stop tingling.  _ I am absolutely ready to spend a few hours in the shooting range. If I can manage to lift my gun, I mean _ . 

“So? Thirsty Thursday, right?” Noct said as he gave Prompto’s shoulder a nudge. With a grumble, Prompto sat up so his friend could join him on the bench he had claimed. 

“If we were in college, maybe,” Prompto said. Noct flopped down beside him, and offered Prompto half of the candy bar he'd been chewing on. Prompto gladly accepted, hungry as he was. Gladio had told him he needed to start carbo-loading, which made Prompto wonder if that was why Gladio seemed to eat cup noodles by the pound.  _ Ugh. No way am I gonna start pounding back the cup noodles _ . 

“Well, I have private tutors trying to force college credits down my throat, and you're gonna sign up for that photography course soon, right? Close enough, I say. Besides, a bunch of people from the Crownsguard are going, and maybe a few glaives,” Noct said as he stuffed the rest of his half of the candy bar into his mouth. 

Prompto made a noncommittal noise, and took a bite of the treat so he wouldn't have to answer right away. He was on break at the moment, and had let Noct drag him out to some pretty courtyard in the middle of the Citadel. As usual, Prompto had his camera around his neck, and had snapped a couple dozen pictures of all the ornamental trees and flowers that decorated the outdoor space. 

Honestly, it felt good to be outside without having to dodge blows from Gladio or some other over-enthusiastic Crownsguard. Training in the humidity was next to unbearable. 

“You're bumming me out, Prom,” Noct sighed. 

Rolling his eyes, Prompto asked around a mouthful of chewy candy, “Why’s that?”

Noct was slow to answer, and when Prompto looked over at him he saw his friend's expression had gone pensive.  _ Uh oh. _ Noct only looked like that when there was something he had to say that made him uncomfortable. Which meant something emotional or intimate. 

“You've...been a little distant? Lately, y'know.” He didn't elaborate, and he was pointedly looking anywhere but at Prompto.

It didn't take any master deductive skills to piece together what else was probably going on in Noct’s mind.  _ He wants to know why, what's bothering me, but he won't ask outright _ . Prompto felt a swell of guilt, and had to resist the urge to throw his arms around Noct and apologize. For one, it was too hot for cuddles, and two, Noct was prickly like a cat when it came to physical contact. 

“Oh,” Prompto said, fidgeting with the cuffs of his gloves. “I didn't--,”  _ Didn't realize I was being such a downer _ . For the past few weeks he’d become so wrapped up in himself he hadn’t paid attention to much else, which wasn't really like him at all.  _ Noct has been upset about this whole “peace conference,” and me being hung up on Ignis isn't helping anything. I’m just making him worry more. _

“I'm sorry, dude. Of course I'll hang out tonight.” He didn't have to fake the apologetic smile he offered to Noct, but he did inject a bit of false cheer to cover up his own discomfort. 

Noct looked skeptical. “You sure?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” Prompto said.

“All right, good. I was tired of you acting like such a loser,” Noct said as he slouched up to his feet, back to teasing. 

Prompto made an indignant noise and gave Noct a full-body shove as he launched himself off the bench. “You're the loser!” Noct stumbled and then half-turned back to retaliate, and they wound up crossing the courtyard that way, both attempting to push the other off the path. A few Citadel residents who were out for an afternoon stroll shot them scandalized looks, but Noct seemed unconcerned.

“So are we going straight out from here, or do I have time to go home and change?” Prompto asked once they were back inside. 

“Your house is halfway across town, it'll take too long,” Noct scoffed. For a guy who liked his sleep, he was always oddly excited to spend a night out. “Just meet me in parking lot after your shift ends if I'm not in the locker room, ok?”

“Sure thing, jerk,” Prompto said, reaching up one last time and shoving at the back of Noct’s head. Then he took off running, laughing as Noct shouted after him.

x

Prompto had never been invited to hang out by people he'd worked with at any of the various jobs he’d ever had, or really by very many people other than Noct. Ignoring that Noct was the one who was all but dragging him out tonight, he decided he was looking forward to the upcoming evening. He was going as a Crownsguard, after all, to a bar full of other Crownsguard. 

Once his shift was over and he'd cleaned up, he stood at his locker, fixing his hair in the little mirror he'd hung on the door. This time he did opt for the eyeliner, which he thought earned him a few looks from the macho types loitering around after hitting the showers. With Noct lounging on a nearby bench waiting for him, nobody dared to say anything, though.  _ It's just for cover up, jeez, _ he thought. The color blended with his skin, and made it so he didn't have to walk around looking like he'd just been crying all the time. Nobody ever even noticed once he had it on.

_ Shit. I hope Ignis didn't think I'd been crying this morning _ . That would explain why Ignis had looked so worried when they'd spoken, and why he’d been slow to believe Prompto’s lame excuses.  _ Great, just what I need _ , Prompto thought.  _ Now Ignis probably thinks there's something seriously wrong with me.  _ Besides the fact that Prompto was suffering through the world's most intense crush, he was more or less emotionally stable. Well, emotionally stable in his own erratic sort of way.

When they arrived once more at the motor pool, Prompto couldn't decide if he was excited or apprehensive to find Ignis waiting for them. For his part, Ignis seemed surprised to see Prompto climbing into the back seat of Noct’s car.

“I didn't think I'd be seeing you tonight,” Ignis stated, catching Prompto’s eye in the rear-view. There was a clear question in Ignis’ gaze, and Prompto gave him what turned out to be a genuine smile. 

“I was coerced,” he said lightly, and Ignis was startled into a chuckle. The sheer knowledge that he could actually make Ignis laugh always gave Prompto a little rush of delight--it was enough to brush aside any lingering reservations he might have had about letting himself enjoy Ignis’ company. These were his friends, first and foremost, and he didn't need anything more than that to have fun spending time with them. 

“I understand the feeling,” Ignis told him with one of his subtle smiles. Prompto felt a fluttering in his belly, but it was a sweet sensation rather than a torturous one. 

Unsurprisingly, Ignis was in the driver's seat--Noct hardly ever drove his own car, which Prompto couldn't really understand. Well, he understood that Noct liked to let Ignis drive so he could sleep (the guy seriously had to be a cat-man hybrid or something). Prompto knew that if he had his own car, they would have to pry him out of the driver's seat before he'd let somebody else take the wheel.

Gladio joined them after only a few minutes, and Prompto whined over having to be squished into the back seat with him. “I'm gonna suffocate! Noct, switch with me!” He finally relented when Gladio offered to strap him to the roof of the car, and then they were off. 

Prompto leaned forward between the front seats as best he could to talk to Noct, and did his best to ignore Ignis’ handsome profile where it loomed in his peripheral vision.  _ No mooning over Ignis tonight _ , he reminded himself.  _ Just enjoy yourself and don't let Noct goad you into getting completely hammered. _

_ Easier said than done. _

X

The bar they went to was apparently a favorite of the Crownsguard. When they arrived there was a chorus of cheers from the bar where several uniformed Crownsguard were already waiting to be served. Most of the civilian patrons seemed to be giving them a wide berth, which Prompto understood completely.  _ I'm  _ with  _ the Crownsguard and I'm nervous about going over there. _ He wasn’t particularly well-acquainted with any of them, outside of his own circle of friends. 

“Ugh, there's too many people here,” Noct grumbled immediately.

“Would His Highness rather drink alone?” Gladio asked with a smirk. Ignoring the rude gesture Noct made in response, Gladio announced he was going to find them a table and began weaving through the crowd. 

“I'll go with him, I suppose. Make sure he doesn't break anything,” Ignis sighed, already pinching at the bridge of his nose.

Prompto had approximately half a second to wonder about that before he was being dragged toward the bar by Noct. As they moved, people seemed all too eager to make way for the prince. Noct looked bored by the reactions he was garnering--someone would glance at him, do a double take, then practically leap out of the way as they gaped. Even with Noct’s reputation for being unusually social toward the common folk, he still got gawked at occasionally. Knowing how much Noct hated the looks, Prompto slung a friendly--protective--arm around his friend's shoulders.

“So buddy, what're we drinkin’ tonight?” he asked, appropriately jovial.

Letting Noct do the ordering probably wasn't a great idea. He had a preference for a high alcohol content--maybe it was the magic in his blood, Prompto didn't know, but it took a lot to get Noct anywhere close to full-on drunk. Tabloids had even falsely labeled the prince a party boy after some creep filmed him doing shots; Noct liked to drink to be social and have fun with his friends, rather than solely for the sensation. Unfortunately that usually meant Prompto got drunk under the table. Not that he was a lightweight, but he sure as hell couldn't keep up with the likes of Noct and Gladio when they were egging each other on. 

Noct did know what Prompto liked, though, and being the prince in a bar full of Crownsguard meant he got first dibs at the bartender. Before Prompto knew it, a shot glass was being pushed into his hand, the contents bright yellow. “On three,” Noct said. His shot was clear, and Prompto shuddered to think what the prince was drinking. Prompto’s lemon drop went down smooth enough, sugary and only a little sour, and he could barely taste the alcohol. 

The effect was almost immediate, leaving him flushed and feeling like he'd stood up too fast, though he hadn't even sat down yet. “I'm gonna need something to eat if that's how it's gonna be tonight,” he told Noct with a grimace. The last time he'd gone drinking on an empty stomach he'd spent most of the next day wishing for death, facedown over a toilet.  _ Not doing that again. _

“Order whatever,” Noct said, waving at the bar. He already had a glass of something else in hand, and was in the middle of ordering a round for the rest of their group. “It's all on my tab tonight. No arguments.” He added that last part with a finger pointed firmly at Prompto’s face. Prompto snapped his mouth shut, knowing it wouldn't do him any good to try and open his own tab. Noct would find out and pay for him either way, insisting that Prompto save his money. 

Honestly, Prompto appreciated the gesture, but he always worried there would be somebody who thought he was just some mooch taking advantage of the kindly prince. It had happened before, and he definitely didn’t want it to happen again. In the end, he ordered a plate of appetizers for their table.  _ Nobody can accuse me of being a money-sucking leech if I share. _

Gladio had managed to get them a decent table somehow, in a far corner from which the rest of the establishment was easily visible. Almost unconsciously, Prompto realized that it was ideal for several reasons--Ignis and Gladio could easily survey their surroundings, and the doorway leading to the rear exit was less than a dozen steps away.  _ If anything happens to threaten Noct, they'll see it coming and be able to make a quick escape _ . Now that he thought about it, Prompto realized they did the same thing every time they all went out together. 

_I never even noticed, but it makes sense._ _They're--we're--his bodyguards_. Was this his Crownsguard training actually paying off? Gladio had spent plenty of time by now drilling this sort of information into Prompto’s head--how to analyze certain situations for potential dangers, always knowing where your exit is, etc _. I guess some of it actually stuck_ , Prompto thought with a small flare of pride. He honestly hadn't been expecting that. 

A server brought over the drinks Noct had ordered, and the large plate of appetizers. Prompto immediately went for the nachos, enjoying the look of mystified revulsion on Noct’s face as he chewed on a slice of jalapeño. 

“I don't know how you can eat spicy stuff like it's nothing,” Noct said.

“It's not that spicy,” Prompto teased, “Try one.”

“Absolutely not. The last time I fell for that my tongue was burning for  _ hours _ ,” Noct cringed.  _ Like he's one to talk, sitting there drinking straight liquor. Gross _ .

“You'd have been fine if you'd gotten a glass of milk like I said,” Prompto told him, smirking. “But, whatever, more for me.”

“Come on, Iggy, put that thing away,” Gladio was saying, his voice cutting over the din, scowling on the other side of their table. Ignis, Prompto noticed as he turned his attention that way, was busily scrawling something in that notebook of his. The cover was propped open halfway so no one could see what he was writing. He finished quickly and snapped it shut before tucking the notebook away inside his coat.

“Apologies. I just recalled something I didn't want to forget.” He spoke passively, then reached for his glass. 

“You never forget  _ anything _ ,” Noct said, rolling his eyes. Already, his tumbler was nearly empty. Prompto had barely taken three sips of the hard iced tea the server had placed in front of him, and he was already feeling fuzzy around the edges. 

“Yes, and I'm sure Your Highness would rather I did at times,” Ignis said, dry.

Prompto had his glass halfway to his lips, but immediately set it down at that. “You mean, like, embarrassing stuff?” he asked, eyes lighting up at the prospect, “Dude, I bet you've got all kinds of dirt on Noct!”

Sputtering, Noct elbowed Prompto hard in the side. “He does not!”

Ignis’ expression had gone thoughtful, though, and Gladio was very obviously hiding a smirk behind his pint glass. “Now that you mention  it--,” Ignis began.

“ _ Ignis _ !” Noct hissed, looking about as terrified as Prompto had ever seen, so much so that Prompto couldn't help dropping his face into his hands and laughing until he wheezed.

“Some loyal subjects you assholes are!” Noct fumed. “I'm gonna go play darts, and if any of you gets a dart in the ass it's your own fault.”

“W-wait, Noct, I'm coming, too!” Prompto said, grabbing at his friend's shoulder as they both stood. He had to wipe at his eyes before he picked up his glass, but as he did he turned and tossed Ignis a wink, and loudly whispered, “ _ Later _ .”

Noct heard, of course, and Prompto only had a moment to consider the way Ignis’ face seemed to flush pink before the prince was dragging Prompto away to “whoop his ass,” at darts. 

X

Darts were surprisingly harder to throw when one had alcohol pumping steadily through one’s veins, Prompto realized fairly quickly. He wasn’t drunk, was barely buzzed yet, but he supposed he was just impaired enough to throw off his aim. Still, it was almost a tie, with Noct only scraping by with a one-point lead. 

“You didn’t ‘whoop my ass’ so much as caress it gently,” Prompto said, loudly enough for half the bar to hear. He laughed again at Noct’s bright red face, and harder still when the prince angrily challenged a howling Gladio to the next match. At least Gladio was still sober enough to throw straight. 

For his part, Prompto stood off to the side and cheered, though he forgot halfway through the game who he was rooting for. Gladio won, and Noct demanded a rematch. By their third match they had drawn a crowd--Prompto could see phones being held up, and worried about someone posting the prince’s antics online. Noct would hate the attention, especially if any videos wound up on the news where his father was sure to see. 

“Quite the commotion His Highness is causing,” a voice spoke just over Prompto’s shoulder. He jumped a little, then nearly dropped his drink--he’d only just gotten a refill, too--when he realized who it was who’d joined him in the boisterous crowd.

“S-sir, uh, marshal!” he stuttered. Cor stood with his arms folded over his chest, eyes scanning the room with an air of resignation.  _ Jeez, is everyone here tonight? Who the heck is even on duty right now?  _

“At ease,” Cor said, and though his rather serious expression didn’t change, Prompto thought he sounded at least a little amused? Maybe? It was so hard to tell with the marshal. Seeing him in a setting like this--a bar full of rowdy Crownsguard (Crownsguards?)--also felt wildly incongruous. The way his eyes kept sweeping over the room was less like a man keeping an eye out for danger, Prompto decided, and more like a chaperone supervising a bunch of hyperactive children. 

“What do you think, Crownsguard?” Cor asked, and Prompto started again. 

“Uh, a-about Noct, sir?” Prompto asked, casting a glance in his friend’s direction as he took a long, distracting sip of his drink. Noct was still outwardly sulking over his continued losses to Gladio, but underneath that, Prompto could tell that Noct was enjoying himself. “I think, uh, he just wants to feel normal sometimes? It’s not his fault he draws a crowd.” 

“Indeed,” Cor said, though his tone was flat enough that Prompto couldn’t tell whether the marshal was truly agreeing with him or not. 

“I mean, he deserves to let off steam just as much as anyone else, right?” Prompto stammered on, knowing that his mouth was getting ahead of him and unable to stop it. “He’s been all down and out about this ‘peace conference’ thing, and uh--I mean, you know, because of the Nifs--Niflheim! Because of--,” Prompto stopped, took another long draught from his glass, and finally squeaked, “He’s just overwhelmed, sir.” 

Cor looked down at Prompto for several long, uncomfortable seconds. Finally, when Prompto had begun to wish that the floorboards would split apart and swallow him whole, Cor said, “You’re a good friend to the prince, Crownsguard Argentum, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Keep it up.” 

“Oh. Thank you,” Prompto said, made somewhat breathless by the unexpected praise. 

“Ah, there’s Drautos. Excuse me, would you?” Prompto nodded, feeling lightheaded as he watched Cor easily pick his way through the crowd. Then he looked down at his glass, and realized it was nearly empty.  _ Oh boy. I need to sit, _ he thought as a wave of lightheadedness washed over him. Talking to Cor had made him jittery with nerves, and the booze wasn’t helping.  _ I definitely drank it too fast. Where were we sitting again? _

Weaving slightly on his feet, he found his way back to their table, and wasn’t terribly surprised to find Ignis sitting there alone. Not surprised, but perhaps a bit dismayed. Ignis was still in the same seat, back against the wall, phone in hand as he tapped against the screen with a stylus. That damned notebook was open in front of him, and he glanced down at it every now and then. 

“Dude, tell me you’re not working,” Prompto said as he dropped down into the seat next to Ignis that Gladio had vacated. 

Ignis actually started, apparently so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed Prompto’s approach over the ambient noise of music, cheering, and glasses clinking. “Only updating my schedule for tomorrow,” Ignis told him, though he sounded chagrined, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

Prompto wrinkled his nose, and nodded to Ignis’ glass--it was only half-empty, but Prompto was thinking of getting up to order again. Maybe a soda or a cup of tea, though. His shift started later the next day, but he was already drunker--more drunk?--than he’d planned on getting. “Want a refill on that?”

“It’s only water,” Ignis said.

“Oh, come on,” Prompto said, dangerously close to whining, “Don’t they ever let you have any fun, Ignis?”

He could see Ignis’ mouth quirk slightly in the dim lighting. “On occasion. I’m the designated driver tonight, however.” 

“That sucks,” Prompto huffed. He took an absent sip from his glass again, and was annoyed when the ice at the bottom clicked against his teeth. “Can I have a sip of your water?” he asked. 

“Certainly,” Ignis said, passing the glass over. Prompto hummed a thanks. The water was refreshingly cool, and rinsed away the aching sweetness of the iced tea. He set the glass down, then glanced over at Ignis’ notebook, only to have Ignis quickly flip it shut. “Was there anything else you needed, Prompto?” he asked shortly.  _ Did he do that on purpose? I guess I shouldn’t have tried to snoop... _

“No,” Prompto shrugged, scratching a blunt nail over the woodgrain of the table. “Just wanted to sit down. It’s getting kinda busy in here for me. And I gotta keep you entertained, apparently.” 

“Oh? You wouldn’t rather spend your night chatting with the marshal?” Had Ignis seen them talking or something? _Why else would he bring that up?_  


“Nah. You’re much better company,” Prompto said without really thinking about it.

“Am I now?” Ignis said, tone neutral. Prompto looked up to find Ignis watching him with an equally placid expression. They were sitting rather close, close enough that their shoulders would brush together if Prompto shifted just a hair to the left. 

“Well, yeah, Ignis,” Prompto said, like it was obvious. “Cor is the Immortal, but you’re...Ignis.” He  was too tipsy to explain it better than that, but the slow smile that tugged at Ignis’ mouth told him he’d gotten his point across. 

“Iggy,” Ignis said then, and Prompto must have looked as confused as he felt, because Ignis added, “You always call me ‘Ignis.’ You can call me Iggy, though. If you like.” 

“Yeah?” Prompto asked as his body began to warm, his skin tingling. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Oh, yeah, totally!” Prompto agreed, probably too enthusiastically if Ignis’ answering laughter was any indication. “Hey, Iggy,” he said, somewhat giddy, “Next time I can drive, if you want. So you don’t have to babysit everyone.”

“Kind of you to offer, but I don’t mind,” Ignis said. “I’m rather an introspective drinker, besides.”

Prompto shifted then, so now their shoulders  _ were  _ touching, leaning in against Ignis’ warmth.  _ Damn, he’s just as firm as I thought he’d be _ , Prompto thought, alcohol shielding him from the usual burst of shame that accompanied such thoughts. He rather suddenly wanted nothing more than to rest his head on that inviting shoulder. “So what, you drink and get even quieter?  _ Iggy _ ,” he groaned. “Tell me what you like to do for fun, then. Crossword puzzles?  _ Math? _ ”

“I do enjoy a good word problem,” Ignis said, and Prompto had to squint up hard at him to determine whether he was joking or not. The slight crinkling at the corner of Ignis’ eyes was what gave it away.

Snorting, Prompto gave up on resisting the urge to straight up flop over onto Ignis, and did just that. “Ha, ha,” he muttered, firmly nestled against Ignis’ wonderful warmth. “I’ll figure you out, yet,  _ Iggy _ . Just you wait.” 

He couldn’t see Ignis’ face at the moment, but he thought he felt the body beneath him go stiff for the briefest instant. Then he relaxed again, and said, “So you’d like to get to know one another better, is what you’re saying?” Ignis asked. His voice had gone low--Prompto could only hear him because of how close they were. 

“I guess,” Prompto agreed, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment. The small part of his brain that was still operating rationally told him to sit up, to stop what he was doing  _ right this fucking minute _ , but Prompto didn’t think he’d ever been so comfortable before in his life.  _ Shut up. Let me enjoy this. I promise I’ll be embarrassed about it tomorrow _ . 

“I know you’re really smart, and you like that Ebony coffee stuff,” he continued, “and you kick all our asses at mobile games though you pretend like they’re a waste of time, and you like taking care of everyone, and you’re secretly really funny. And you like cooking, obviously. But I don’t feel like I know much more than that.” He did know more than that, but he wasn’t about to sit there and list every little detail he’d picked up on, like how Ignis cleaned his glasses when he was frustrated, or that he knew Ignis liked his coffee with milk rather than cream. It would take too long to say all of that. 

Ignis was quiet for a long moment, and Prompto was surprised and elated to feel Ignis’ arm slide slowly around his back. He took it as an invitation to snuggle closer, completely forgetting that they were in a crowded bar. Not that anybody was paying attention to them. A roar went through the crowd surrounding the dartboard. Were Noct and Gladio still playing, or had one of them finally conceded and let someone else have a turn?

“Would it shock you very much to hear that I don’t actually like cooking?” Ignis said.

Prompto didn’t move away from Ignis, but he turned his face up to look at his friend, once more certain that he had to be joking. Instead he found that Ignis’ expression was utterly serious, though not in a severe way. That, and that their faces were very,  _ very  _ close now. “But...you cook all the time! Why do you do it if you don’t like it?” 

“As you said, I do find a certain enjoyment in looking after my friends,” Ignis said, his hand smoothing slowly along the small of Prompto’s back. The motion was utterly soothing, and Prompto felt like he could melt underneath the gentle pressure of Ignis’ palm. “I don’t actively  _ hate  _ cooking, though it can get tiresome at times. What I like about it is knowing that the rest of you enjoy it, and that, thanks to my efforts, you aren’t subsisting solely on junk food.” 

“I guess that makes sense,” Prompto murmured. He couldn’t entirely wrap his mind around it. Ignis was just so  _ good _ in the kitchen, and Prompto couldn’t imagine somebody being that good at something if they didn’t love doing it.  _ He does it for Noct. And for the rest of us, too, now. I guess that’s reason enough for him _ . 

“And you,” Ignis said, and Prompto sensed he was about to change the subject, “I know that you enjoy your video games with Noct, and that you’re an exceptional photographer, not to mention brilliant with all manner of electronic devices. You’re also a loyal friend, and I am aware that you let Noct sneak vegetables onto your plate when you both think that nobody is looking.” Prompto winced, but Ignis was grinning down at him now. “And I know now that you enjoy spicy food, and that you’re a rather affectionate drunk.” 

“Oh,” Prompto blushed, but he didn’t look away. He’d never let himself stare at Ignis for so long, or so openly before. The man was beyond attractive, honestly. Prompto thought he could have spent hours tracing the sharp, clean lines of his face, touching each little beauty mark, counting each of those pretty eyelashes framing those beautiful green eyes. “Green is my favorite color,” he blurted as said green eyes seemed to bore right into his own, like Ignis knew exactly what he was thinking.  _ Smooth _ , he thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Is it,” Ignis said. Prompto felt his throat working--Ignis’ hand had stilled, but it was resting firmly now against his back, holding him in place. Ignis’ gaze was searching, his face only inches from Prompto’s, close enough that Prompto swore he could see the pulse jumping in Ignis’ throat.  _ I’m imagining this, right? There’s no way this is happening. He’s staring at me like he wants...like he wants to… _

Prompto felt his tongue dart out to wet his lips, and saw Ignis’ eyes intently follow the motion.  _ Oh, I didn’t imagine that _ . He let his lips part, silently urging Ignis to make a move.  _ Kiss me, _ he thought. And Prompto would have almost sworn that Ignis really could read his thoughts, he would have bet anything that Ignis really  _ would  _ have followed that silent command if his  _ godsdamned _ phone hadn’t started buzzing hard where it rested on the table.

Ignis jerked upright like he’d been shocked, like whatever spell they’d both just been under had been broken. For a split second he looked irritated by the interruption, but then he glanced down at his phone and he schooled his expression back to neutrality. “Ah, pardon, Prompto. I’ve got to take this.” As if he couldn’t get away fast enough, Ignis withdrew his arm, picked up his phone, and slid out from behind their table as he held the device up to his ear, pushing toward the front of the bar. “Yes, I’m here. Hold on a moment, I can’t hear you.” And then he was gone. 

_ What the fuck just happened? _ Prompto was in a daze. Admittedly he was still half-drunk, but he was like, ninety-percent sure he hadn’t just fantasized that whole scenario. He felt chilled now by the sudden absence of Ignis’ warmth, for one thing.  _ I mean, he was gonna kiss me, right? Wasn’t he?  _

Hindsight was quickly muddling the situation. Perhaps Prompto had misread the whole thing; Ignis might have just thought he was comforting a drunk friend, or...or something.  _ I do get kind of clingy when I’ve had a few. _ Noct always teased him about it the day after a night out, how Prompto would hang all over the nearest available person whether they liked it or not. He’d wound up being dropped on the floor more than once. 

_ I should just forget it ever happened, go find Noct and Gladio. _ Ignis would be too polite to bring it up, probably. They could just ignore it, put it behind them. It would be the smart thing to do.

_ Fuck, when do I ever do the smart thing? _ Prompto pushed up out of his seat, wobbled for a moment, then followed Ignis’ path across the bar. 

X

Outside, the air was muggy and smelled like rain. The pavement was damp, so it must have showered, but Prompto couldn’t feel any drops on his skin. 

Ignis was nowhere in sight, and for a moment Prompto worried that Ignis might have had to leave.  _ No, he’s our driver. He wouldn’t just take off like that. Not without telling anybody _ . So he started down the sidewalk, avoiding the people hanging around the door in clouds of cigarette smoke. In all honesty, he didn’t have a plan. He barely even knew what exactly he was doing beyond trying to find Ignis.  _ I should probably just tell him how I feel. I mean this is as good a chance as any.  _ Maybe it would be easier when he had a good, strong buzz going. Or maybe he would burst into tears as soon as he opened his mouth. There was only one way to find out. 

“...yes, I could meet with you then,” a familiar, cultured voice reached his ears, and Prompto felt himself relax just the teensiest bit. “Very well, if that works for you...Yes, thank you. I’ll see you then.” Prompto reached the corner of the building and rounded into a narrow alley just as Ignis was tucking his phone into his pocket, turning to head back out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh!” Ignis exclaimed as Prompto collided with his chest. “Prompto, what are you doing out here?”

“I...I was looking for you,” Prompto said, blinking up at him, entirely distracted now as he realized again how close they had wound up. Nearly chest to chest. 

“Prompto,” Ignis said, shoulders slumping uncharacteristically. His hands came up to rest on Prompto’s upper arms, and Prompto somehow managed to sink in closer to that lovely warmth. He found his own hands smoothing up Ignis’ chest, and he was certain now that he felt Ignis shiver beneath his touch. 

Whatever plan Prompto had to talk to Ignis evaporated instantly as a wave of heat prickled through his body. Unbidden, he heard his thoughts come tumbling out of his mouth, once more out of his control. “You’re so sexy, Iggy,” he breathed, watching the way his hands flattened the fabric of Ignis’ button-up over his flesh, outlining what must have been a very nice chest.  _ I’ve seen him in just a tank top, I know it’s nice. Must be nicer without a shirt in the way, though _ . 

“ _ Prompto _ ,” Ignis said again, voice lower this time, almost ragged. There was a desperate note to it, pleading. His heart was pounding--Prompto could feel it as he dragged his fingers down again, back over Ignis’ stomach. Emboldened by Ignis’ reactions, moving on pure instinct, he tilted his head up and tried to push up into a kiss, but he missed somehow--or Ignis had moved his head at the last second.  _ No, he...he wants to kiss me, right? _ So instead Prompto found himself kissing Ignis’ jaw, which wasn’t bad. His skin was soft, warm, and Prompto decided he didn’t mind trailing his mouth along that jaw very much at all. 

Ignis gave a great shudder against him, and Prompto felt a brief thrill of  _ finally _ \--and then Ignis’ grip went firm on his arms, and he felt himself being pushed back. Gently, but definitively, until there was space enough between them to breathe. 

“Prompto,” Ignis said for the third time, softly, like he thought Prompto might spook and run. His expression was unreadable again, but that didn’t matter. “Stop this. Please.” 

It was the “please,” that did it. Prompto dropped his gaze, trembling suddenly all over and it had nothing to do with arousal or happiness. He’d messed up. Badly. Very, very badly.  _ Fuck, why didn’t I just talk to him? That’s what I was gonna do, right? I could have just said something instead of throwing myself at him. _ Clarity seemed to come to him a moment too late, like the shock of rejection had expelled the alcohol from his brain.  _ I’m stupid, I’m so stupid, he was trying to ask me to  _ stop _ , fuck- _ -

“Ignis?” They both heard Noct’s voice calling from the front of the building, and Ignis stepped back gracefully, releasing Prompto as if they’d never been touching. Prompto could hear footsteps approaching, but he didn't turn to face Noct. He couldn't even lift his gaze from the pavement. “Oh, there you are. I’m ready to leave, but Gladio thinks he’s gonna score with this glaive and--Why are you guys standing around in an alleyway?” 

“Prompto was feeling ill,” Ignis lied smoothly. “You’re certain you wish to leave? It’s still early.”

“Yeah, but people keep taking pictures of me and it’s getting annoying,” Noct huffed, easily accepting Ignis’ falsehood. Prompto wanted to cry. Ignis shouldn't have had to cover for him. This was Prompto’s fault. Shame bit at him, worse than the pain of being turned down. 

_ Gods, what is wrong with me? This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. _ Now Prompto could only imagine what Ignis must think of him, how pathetic Ignis probably found him to be, and how disgusted he had to have been by Prompto’s behavior. 

“I suppose I'll give you both a ride home then,” Ignis said. “Shall we attempt to drag Gladio out of there, or would it be futile?”

Noct appeared in Prompto’s peripheral vision as he answered. “I'm telling you, he’s not gonna wanna leave with us. I tried to tell him I was leaving and he told me to get lost. Some bodyguard he is.” 

Ignis made a long-suffering noise. “Very well. I suppose I won’t bother interrupting him, then.” 

“Good. Come on, Prom.” Noct sounded weary, ready for bed, as he tapped Prompto on the arm and headed back toward the street. Somehow, he wasn’t too tired to realize that Prompto was being unusually quiet as they followed Ignis out of the alleyway. 

“Hey,” Noct said as they crossed the street, making for the lot where Ignis had parked the car. “What's up?” 

“Nothing,” Prompto said. He was no way near as efficient a liar as Ignis apparently was, though. 

“Did you make yourself sick or something?” Noct asked, resting a hand on Prompto’s back, lowering his voice to a murmur. “I bet Iggy’s got a potion rolling around in the glove compartment if you want it.”

“That's okay,” Prompto said thickly, “I'll be fine.” Still, he leaned sideways into Noct, and his friend pulled him closer. Thankfully, Noct wasn't one to press, not in an instance like this. He knew it was better to let Prompto work up to talking about it on his own. 

“You want the back seat?” Noct asked once they reached the car. 

Prompto was shaking his head automatically, knowing Noct probably wanted to stretch out in the back so he could doze off. Abruptly, he realized that if Noct took the back, that meant Prompto would be stuck up front with Ignis. But it was already too late to change his mind; Noct was clambering into the rear of the car, stretching his whole body across the back seat as he pulled the door shut.

For a few seconds Prompto gave serious consideration to just running home. Or to the nearest subway station. He felt frozen, afraid to get into the car, but knowing it would raise too many questions for him to take off without so much as a word.  _ You’re already a loser, do you want Ignis to think you’re a coward, too? _

“Prompto.” Ignis’ voice jarred him out of his stupor. He was regarding Prompto across the roof of the car, expression still horribly inscrutable. 

Spurred into action if only to hide from that gaze, Prompto yanked open the passenger side door and slid into the seat. He quickly buckled himself in, then made sure to twist his body toward the window, staring pointedly out at the brightly lit city night. Beside him, he could feel Ignis mirroring his movements, settling into the driver’s seat, starting the engine--for a moment the radio blared, but the volume was quickly lowered to a soft hum. The car was silent, even as they rolled out of the parking lot. Sometimes after a late night, they were all too worn out to talk, so they would ride in companionable silence, but this was nothing like that. This was painful. 

Even as none of them spoke, Prompto’s mind raced. Maybe it was adrenaline, he didn’t know, but he felt entirely, chillingly sober now.  _ A little too late _ , he thought. He was scared to so much as peek at Ignis, despite the fact that he was sure Ignis was still wearing that calm facade. All Prompto wanted was to get home, just get home and lock himself in his room where he could freak out in private. Whatever he was going to say to Ignis, whatever apology he managed to cook up, that could come later. For now, Prompto wanted to be alone with his self-loathing. He wanted to get away from Ignis, to hide from him for as long as he possibly could, because he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near Ignis, didn’t deserve to breathe the same air or share the same space. It was all he could do to stop himself from tearing off his seatbelt and jumping out of the car.

“Iggy, drop me off first,” Noct said from the backseat, and Prompto had to squeeze his eyes shut.  _ No, don’t do this to me _ . 

“It would be simpler to drop Prompto off first, Noct. You and I are going to the same place,” Ignis said.

“But my apartment is closer and I’m b-beat,” Noct retorted through a yawn. 

Ignis sighed. Prompto knew the royal advisor had a difficult time saying no to his charge, so he wasn’t surprised when Ignis responded with a resigned, “As you wish.” 

The ride through the city was interminable. Prompto’s heart thudded harder and harder in his chest the closer they came to Noct’s apartment building. Then they were there, and Noct was slapping Prompto on the shoulder from the back seat. “See you, man. Feel better, all right?”

“Yeah,” was all Prompto managed to croak out. Ignis idled at the curb long enough to make sure Noct made it into the building before pulling off. Prompto’s house was a ten minute ride away, and he wasn’t certain he was going to survive that long. Alone with Ignis now, he could practically sense the other man trying to think of something to say. _ Don’t say anything, please just don’t. I know I made a mess of everything. I fucking jumped you, and you have every right to hate me. _ That thought made Prompto’s throat swell--he didn’t know if he could live with himself if that were the case, if Ignis  _ hated  _ him. 

By the time Ignis rolled to a stop in front of the Argentum house, Prompto was on the verge of a complete breakdown. He sucked in a breath, and forced out a strained, “Thanks for the ride,” then he was fumbling with his seatbelt, trying to make an escape before he started bawling. 

“Prompto, wait,” Ignis said. Prompto just shook his head, finally managing to get his damn seatbelt unbuckled with his trembling hands, and turned to grab the door handle. A gentle brush of fingers against his wrist was enough to make him stop. If Ignis had tried to grab him, tried to hold him there against his will, Prompto would have thrown the hand off and exploded out of the car. But Ignis did nothing like that, because Ignis would  _ never  _ do something like that, not to a friend.  _ Unlike me, evidently _ . 

“I’m--,” Prompto had to stop, swallow down the knot in his throat, “I’m sorry, Ignis.” He couldn’t bear to face Ignis, squeezing his eyes shut again instead, still facing the window, one hand on the door. His entire body was tensed, ready to leap as soon as he got the chance.

“Sorry? Whatever for?” The sincerity of the question was what caused Prompto to turn to face Ignis, a disjointed, jerky motion. 

“I--,” Prompto paused again to try and wet his lips, but his mouth had gone dry as well. “I tried to kiss you. I--,”  _ pawed at you like an animal _ . He couldn’t quite manage to get the words out. 

A little crease appeared between Ignis’ fine brow. His hand ghosted along Prompto’s wrist, enveloping Prompto’s hand in a slow, soothing movement. “You did,” Ignis agreed, “But I’m the one who encouraged you. I should have known better than to behave in such a forward manner when you’d been drinking. If either of us should apologize, it ought to be me.” 

Prompto couldn’t quite believe his ears, nor could he find his voice. He looked down at where Ignis’ hand was curled around his own, and found himself turning his wrist, slotting their palms together.  _ So, I wasn’t imagining all that in the bar? _ He wanted desperately to ask, but his tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. 

“I am sorry,” Ignis murmured, and Prompto turned his head up to find that Ignis was watching him carefully. “I believe my actions may have...encouraged your own. Had I known for certain that you returned my feelings I would have been more circumspect.”

“I do,” Prompto finally blurted hoarsely. At Ignis’ curious look, he cleared his throat and elaborated, “Return your feelings. I...like you. I was gonna tell you, but…”

“I believe you made yourself very clear, regardless of the method,” Ignis said, with a hint of a smile. “You should know, as well, that I never felt for a moment that you were behaving inappropriately.”

“But you pushed me away,” Prompto reminded him, trying not to let on how terrible that had made him feel, even if he'd deserved it.

“Of course,” Ignis said, like the reason for that was obvious. “I won’t lie; I would like to have let you continue on with your ministrations in that alleyway.” He paused there to make a bit of a face, something like the shame Prompto himself had experienced. “But I could never allow myself to take advantage.” 

“Well...maybe I wanted you to,” Prompto said, voice small. He would have let Ignis do anything he wanted, to be perfectly honest. 

From the look on Ignis’ face, he had a good idea that Ignis had already made that realization. And it didn’t change anything. Ignis was a gentleman, first and foremost, as evidenced by what he said next. “Prompto, the first time I kiss you, I want you to be sober enough to appreciate it.” It was a statement of fact, but laced with a fierce sincerity that stole Prompto’s breath away. 

“Oh.” Prompto looked back down at their joined hands, hating the way the blood was rushing to his face. His one consolation was that it was dark enough that Ignis wouldn’t be able to see how Prompto’s blush made his freckles stand out. The revelation that Ignis wanted to kiss him was doing funny things to his chest, and he was pretty sure he was getting some form of emotional whiplash after going from hopeful to utter despair to this strange rush of cautious elation. 

“Clearly, there was misunderstanding on both sides,” Ignis said, squeezing Prompto’s hand ever-so-slightly. “If you’re amenable, we can speak further, but for now…” Prompto watched in a sort of haze as Ignis tugged on his arm, lifting both their hands and pressing his lips to Prompto’s knuckles, “You ought to get some rest.”

“Like I’m gonna be able to sleep after all this,” Prompto said, head spinning as the sensation of Ignis’ mouth burned against his skin. 

Chuckling, Ignis released his hand. “Try. And text me in the morning, if you’re feeling up to it.” Prompto liked the way Ignis couldn’t seem to stop grinning at him. All of the fear, the self-hatred that hat been building up inside of him dissolved, melting away as if it had never been there.  _ I must be dreaming, _ he thought. But it felt too real to be a dream. 

“I-I will,” he said. Then, on an impulse he leaned across the center console and did what he’d wanted to do the other day--he kissed Ignis on the cheek, just the barest point of contact. It seemed to take Ignis by surprise, though, and that alone sent a thrill through Prompto as he drew back. There was an awkward moment where he didn’t know what to say, until he realized that he didn’t need to say anything profound. 

“‘Night, Iggy,” he said.

“Goodnight, Prompto.”

The walk up to his front door was surreal. Prompto felt like he was going to float out of his own skin, and he must have still been drunk, or just completely fucking out of it because it took three tries to get his key into the lock. When he looked back, Ignis was waiting at the curb, watching to make sure he got in the front door all right. Just like he’d done with Noct. The simple action made Prompto’s chest feel warm and tight all at once.  
  
With one last wave, he turned and stepped into his dark front hallway, shutting the door behind him, locking it, leaning his back against it. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feelings his eyes welling up--too many conflicting emotions back to back had left him overwhelmed, but now he was smiling as he scrubbed the wetness away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been imagining this chapter since, like, xmas? Before I even thought of the rest of the fic. I hope the way I wrote it came off half as decent as it played out in my head. I dunno, it wasn’t weird was it? I literally finished editing it like six seconds ago and I'm tired. 
> 
> I have already started the next chapter, so hopefully it won’t take so long to update again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention last chapter, I didn't invent Prompto’s eyeliner, but I saw the theory kicking around tumblr and was like mmm yes very good. If you zoom in hard on those peepers, he def looks like he's wearing something on his upper eyelids. Which is just magnifique.
> 
> I also really loved all the comments I got last chapter about how you guys were getting butterflies and clutching your chests reading it, it was very enjoyable for me. :^)

Cracking one groggy eye open, Prompto groaned when he saw the time glaring at him from his bedside clock. It was after nine, well past when he normally got out of bed.  _ Definitely turning into Noct, _ he thought blearily as he tried to burrow further under the covers. Good thing he didn’t have to be at the Citadel until noon today, but he knew he should get up sooner rather than later, regardless.  _ Don’t wanna move. Just a few more minutes… _

From somewhere in the back of his treacherous head he could hear perfectly the weary  _ tsking  _ noise Ignis made when he was trying to rouse Noct from sleep with little success.  _ Come now. We can’t lay abed all day.  _

Just like that his eyes snapped open and Prompto came fully awake with a feeling of pure dread--and instantly regretted it. With a whimper, he sat up, clutching at his head as he curled in on himself. Dull, persistent pain throbbed behind his eyes and through his temples. Granted, this wasn't the worst hangover he'd ever experienced, but Prompto had never dealt well with headaches and he felt weak and thirsty. 

Worse than any of that, in spite of the hazy pain, he could recall the entire night before in stunning clarity. 

_ Gods, I hate me so much. _ Draping himself all over Ignis at their table, then kissing his jaw and fondling him in an damn alleyway; he'd humiliated himself pretty much as thoroughly as a single person possibly could. As the memories replayed behind his tightly shut eyes, he had to wonder if he'd imagined the last part of the night. That kiss to the back of his hand, the earnest confession of mutual attraction.  _ Did that really happen, or was it just my brain conjuring up false memories as a defense mechanism? _

When he thought he could open his eyes without wanting to cringe, he reached over to his nightstand and retrieved his phone.  _ Might as well face the damage now and get it over with. _ There was a jumbled text from Noct that he couldn't decipher-- _ only person I know who texts in his sleep _ \--an image attachment from Gladio in their group chat that Prompto was scared to look at, and one message from--

Choking, he tapped on the text from Ignis, reading it five times before the words actually came into focus:  _ Hope you're feeling well this morning. Let me know when you're awake.  _

Completely innocuous. Ignis could have sent literally any of them a text like that any day of the week. 

“I need coffee,” Prompto groaned out loud. He couldn't cope with himself--or the rest of the world--until his head stopped feeling like it had its own heartbeat.

With what felt like a monumental effort, he heaved himself out of bed and left the blessed darkness of his room. When he passed his parent's bedroom he found that the door was shut, and he could hear snoring from the other side. That meant that his dad was home at the very least.  _ Hopefully he won't wake up after I talk to Ignis. _ The last thing on Eos he wanted right now was for his parents to find out about Ignis, not after Prompto had made such a drunken ass of himself the night before. 

Prompto sipped coffee in the kitchen, still in his pajamas, and stared at his phone. He was having trouble deciding what to say to Ignis. Everything either sounded too casual or too desperately apologetic. Finally he just settled for letting Ignis know he was awake, hitting send and setting his phone on the counter so he could groan into his hands again. 

Less than a minute later his phone began to buzz. And buzz. And  _ oh gods, he's calling me!? _ Prompto felt a genuine swell of panic, staring at his phone in horror for several seconds before scooping it up, nearly fumbling it in the process. 

“H-hello?” he said, heart hammering so loudly he worried he wouldn't be able to hear Ignis’ reply. As far as he could remember, he and Ignis had never verbally spoken over the phone before. He wasn't prepared for this level of communication.

“Good morning, Prompto. I trust you're feeling well?” Ignis sounded so...natural? Normal? Pleasant, as well. 

Prompto swallowed, some of his frantic energy ebbing away. “Uh, yeah. A little hungover I guess, but I'll live.” 

“I'm glad to hear it,” Ignis hummed. It sounded like he was shuffling around, maybe in his office. For a moment, Prompto could picture him perfectly; glasses pushed up high on his nose, hair neatly combed up, suit immaculate, maybe his blazer slung over the back of his chair.  _ Nobody should look as good as he always does so early in the morning. _

“How...how are you?” Prompto asked, nervous for the answer. He paced a few steps, trying to listen for movement down the hall, but it seemed his father was still asleep. 

“I’m fine,” Ignis said, voice going gentle, calming. “Better than fine, in fact.” Prompto felt his heart do a funny little skip at that, and had to lean back against the counter. 

“That's...um…,” Prompto sighed, gathering his nerve, “Igni-Iggy, I just...I want to--.” 

Ignis cut him off, firm but still kind, “Prompto, if you apologize again I shall be most displeased.” It was clear from his tone that he was mostly joking--joking about being displeased, but genuine in that he didn’t want Prompto pleading for forgiveness. 

“But I--I just acted like such a jackass, I…” This time he trailed off, too embarrassed to try to explain himself, an apology caught in his throat.  _ He really isn’t mad at me. _ The relief made Prompto feel a little weak in the knees. 

“Prompto I have seen men behave like beasts when they are inebriated, and you were the furthest thing from  _ that _ ,” Ignis assured him. “You were...sweet.”

That did it. Prompto was glad he was alone, because he wouldn't have wanted anyone to see how red he was right now. “ _ Iggy _ ,” he whined, gripping the edge of the counter he was close to sagging against. 

“I mean it,” Ignis murmured, voice dropping in a way that made Prompto’s mouth go dry. “You are rather adorable, I hope you're aware.”

With a noise of objection, Prompto gasped out, “Ignis!”  _ He’s trying to kill me over the phone, I can’t take this. _

“I can picture how thoroughly red you must be at this very moment,” Ignis continued, a definite teasing edge coloring his words. 

“Iggy, stop it!” Prompto whined, one hand clasped over his eyes, but he was laughing now. How had Ignis managed to make him go from self-loathing misery to relieved giggling in less than five minutes? Grinning now, he let his hand drop. “You're kind of a jerk, you know that?”

“Does that mean you're going to turn down my offer for dinner?” Ignis asked, and the unexpected segue had Prompto sputtering.

“Y-you’re asking me out?!” he blurted, a bit strangled. All right, maybe in the back of his mind he’d been hoping this would happen  _ eventually,  _ now that they were getting things out in the open. He hadn’t thought it would happen, well,  _ now. _

“Is that all right?” Ignis almost sounded uncertain now, and Prompto could have kicked himself.  _ Why else would he be calling you like this, you walnut.  _ Ignis wouldn’t ask someone out with a text.

Dragging a hand down his face, Prompto tried not to sound strained as he answered. “Of course it is. I...Ask me again. I'm ready this time.”

He could almost hear Ignis’ smile. “Prompto, would you care to accompany me to dinner, tomorrow evening?”

_ Of course he'd say it all formally. Gods, that voice really is gonna kill me. _ “Definitely,” he said.  _ More than anything, _ he added silently, heart thumping with a sort of unfamiliar excitement.

“Excellent,” Ignis said, chipper again--and a bit relieved, Prompto thought.  _ He didn't really think I'd say no, did he?  _ “I look forward to it. I'd like to use the opportunity to talk further about this...situation.”

“Oh,” Prompto said, before he could stop himself.

“Don't sound so apprehensive,” Ignis chuckled. “I like you, Prompto. I just would like to know for certain that we’re both on evening footing.”

“Right,” Prompto said. Hearing Ignis admit again that he liked Prompto was making him feel a little lightheaded.  _ And I'm sober this time so I know it's real.  _ “That's...that makes sense.”

“Truthfully I would like to have done it today, but I won't have the time,” Ignis explained. “I doubt we'll even run into one another today. That's why I wanted to call you.”

“That busy, huh?” Prompto asked, worried that Ignis was stretching himself thin, and not for the first time.

“It isn’t usually like this, you know. I've always had plenty to keep me occupied, but for a major political event--,” he sighed, and Prompto’s chest clenched to hear how weary the noise was. “But that's neither here nor there. Now, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I must be going.”

“Another meeting?”

“What else?” Ignis said, amusement replacing weariness. “I'll  message you later with details, all right?”

“Yeah. Sounds good, Iggy. Take...just have a good day, okay?” He'd been about to tell Ignis to take it easy, but he knew from experience that that wouldn't work.

“I shall try,” Ignis said wryly. “Goodbye, Prompto.”

“‘Bye, Iggy.” 

The phone beeped, the call disconnected. Prompto set it down again, biting his lip to try to keep from grinning like the lovesick dork that he was.  _ This is real. This is really real. _ After all his pining and pointless suffering, to find out Ignis felt the same way…

“Morning, son.” Prompto jumped as his dad came hobbling into the kitchen. He hadn't even heard him come down the hall.

“M-morning, dad. Sleep well?” 

His dad just grunted, heading for the coffeemaker. “Who were you talking to so early?”

“Dad, it's almost ten,” Prompto scoffed. “I was talking to my...friend...Ignis.” He almost hadn't admitted it, but he wasn't even sure his parents knew who Ignis was. They didn't keep up with politics any more than he did, though they might have recognized his full name.

As if to prove his point, Dad squinted at the coffee mug he'd retrieved and asked, “Which one is that again?”

“Noct’s advisor,” Prompto told him with a roll of his eyes.

Dad shook his head. “Still dunno how you got yourself tangled up with those political types, kid. You still doing that Crownsguard thing?”

“Yeah, dad,” Prompto said, only mildly exasperated. Every time they had spoken over the past month or so, his dad had asked him the same exact thing. The only thing that kept Prompto from being annoyed by it was that he knew how uneasy the whole thing made his parents.

“Huh,” was all Dad said.

“I promise I'm being careful,” Prompto assured him. “I mean it's tough, but I like it. And I, uh, I actually gotta start getting ready. Are you...gonna be here tonight?”

“Nah, got another delivery to run,” Dad sighed. “Next time I get a few days you and me should do something together, though.”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Prompto said. He'd learned not to be disappointed. Or he tried not to be. “All three of us, maybe?” 

“Ha! If we can manage it, sure,” Dad said. Then Prompto squawked as the old man reached up to ruffle his hair, never mind that he still had a serious case of bedhead.

“Cut it out, Dad! I'm not twelve anymore!”

“Coulda fooled me.” 

“I don't have to stand here and be treated like this, y'know!” Feigning outrage, Prompto snatched up his phone and stalked out of the kitchen. He really did wish he could have spent more time with his father, but he didn't feel as down about it as he normally might. 

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he let the grin he’d been fighting sweep back across his face.  _ I have a date tomorrow. _ Not just a date; a date with _ Ignis Scientia.  _ That knowledge made it difficult to feel anything but excited. Giving himself a shake, Prompto fairly skipped back to his room. 

x  


Ignis was right; Prompto hardly saw him at all that day, except for a single, brief glance. They were separated by the length of an entire hallway, but when their eyes met Prompto made sure to give Ignis a subtle wave. Well, he  _ tried  _ to be subtle but it was hard to restrain himself when all he wanted to do was take a running leap into Ignis’ arms.

For his part, Ignis gave him a small, knowing smile, before his attention was stolen away by a man who must have been his uncle (they looked too similar for it to have been anyone else). Fighting a pout, Prompto dropped his arm and then realized too late that Noct had watched the entire exchange.

“What?” Prompto said innocently. Noct was giving him a funny look, but then he seemed to dismiss whatever he was thinking. 

“I was saying Gladio wants us to train together this afternoon. We need to get used to each other's fighting styles,” Noct said. 

Prompto hadn't heard him say any of that the first time, and he was slightly worried that he was being a bit too obvious. He still hadn't told Noct anything, and now he felt like he and Ignis were in too precarious a position for him to talk about whatever was going on between them.  _ Once we work things out between us, then I'll tell Noct. I mean it this time.  _

“Sounds like fun,” Prompto said with an easy smile. He was still in too good a mood to let anything get him down. Training with Noct and Gladio did turn out to be a lot more enjoyable than he was expecting, as well. Having another body to distract Gladio gave Prompto some room to breathe and decide what he was going to do--until Gladio pitted Noct against him. And Noct was a whole lot faster than his Shield, Prompto was unsurprised to learn. 

Prompto wasn't very good at dodging, which also wasn’t really much of a shock. He’d always been clumsy when it came to sports, and while training to be a Crownsguard wasn’t exactly the same it was close enough in his mind. Gladio said he'd figure it out, learn to read his opponent's body language and act accordingly. As a ranged fighter Prompto hoped it wouldn't really matter, but Gladio insisted. 

“We'll pry Iggy away from his desk one of these days,” Gladio said during a break, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel. “He’ll show ya how it's done.”

The prospect of getting to spar with Ignis summoned all sorts of interesting mental images. _ I wouldn't mind getting my ass dropped by Iggy. Maybe he'd pin me to the ground and straddle me. I bet he’s got strong thighs, and a nice, firm _ \--Noct tapped him on the arm and handed him a bottle of water. Prompto was glad he was already flushed from the heat, to say the least. He took a long, thoughtful draught from the bottle, and then Gladio was shoving him back into the training yard. 

At the end of the day it was Prompto’s turn to coax Noct out, and they wrangled Gladio as well. “C’mon, I just wanna get something to eat!” Prompto had to whine to get Noct to agree, and to remind him that Prompto had gone out the night before in spite of not wanting to.  _ And look what happened with that, _ he thought. Technically, he probably owed Noct for that, but Noct didn’t need to know that just yet. 

The entire day before still didn't feel quite real to him in retrospect. After waking in such a malaise, and tripping through so many conflicting emotions, and to have done a total one-eighty since...His life had been way too eventful lately, he decided. It was exhausting, but now it all seemed kind of worth it, like everything had been leading up to this very instance.

“You seem back to your old, perky self,” Gladio remarked as the three of them sat in a diner that night, waiting for their food to be delivered to their booth. “You've been dragging the past few days, y'know.”

“Guess I'm just getting used to all this training,” Prompto said with a shrug, grinning as he tried to prod Noct into a sitting position. The prince was currently slumped over their table, head burrowed against his folded arms. He grumbled something unintelligible as Prompto poked him in the ribs, but didn’t move. 

“Uh-huh,” Gladio grunted. Prompto glanced across the table and realized that the Shield was staring at him, almost  _ examining _ him. “Iggy gave you a ride home last night, right?”

Prompto had absolutely no ability to lie or conceal information. As soon as he met Gladio’s eyes, he felt his face going warm, and he realized  _ he knows _ . Gladio somehow knew, or suspected what was going on between him and Ignis, and now Prompto’s red face had just confirmed everything. “Uh, yeah. He dropped me off,” Prompto said.  _ Shit. It's not like I didn't want anyone to know ever, I just wanted to wait.  _ But how had Gladio figured it out so easily?

Before Gladio could say anything further, a server arrived with their food. Prompto was still hungry, but he found it difficult to eat when it felt like Gladio was watching his every move. Every time he chanced a look at the Shield, however, Gladio was eating, or teasing Noct, or checking his phone, and definitely not paying Prompto any attention. For whatever reason that just made Prompto more anxious. 

_ He's gonna ask me about it. Get me alone and, I dunno, threaten to break my legs if I hurt Iggy, or something.  _ Not in a million years would Prompto ever do anything to hurt somebody he cared about, not intentionally. Ignis least of all. Disregarding the occasional teasing barb, Ignis had never been anything but kind to Prompto. And Prompto would strive to be deserving of that kindness.  _ If everything works out I mean, and he doesn't suddenly come to his senses and change his mind about me. _

The thought sent a pang through him, so he pushed it away and then jumped when Noct flicked him on the ear. “Dude!” He pouted at the smirking prince.

“Pay attention, dweebus. We're doing a party quest in King’s Knight,” Noct said. Prompto stuck his tongue out at Noct, then picked up his phone from the table. 

“We can't play without Iggy,” Prompto protested, but it fell on deaf ears.  _ We'll all die without him to rez, but fine.  _

Losing himself in the game helped take his mind off of the negative thoughts that were slowly attempting to take hold. He'd been on a few bad dates in his time, and had endured a failed relationship before. Rationally, he knew there was no reason to apply the same low expectations this time around, but his traitorous brain had other ideas, evidently.

_ Iggy and I are already friends. I know he likes me. That's all that matters.  _ He repeated those thoughts like a mantra for the rest of the night, even as Noct dropped him off at home, and he got ready for bed. 

He wasn’t sure how he was going to sleep, too anxious and eager at the prospect of what tomorrow would bring. Before he got into bed, he turned on his stereo, low enough that the music wouldn’t disturb anyone else in the house. The music would hopefully drown out the thoughts that might otherwise keep him awake. Finally--teeth brushed, contact lenses out, jammies on--he climbed into bed, slipping between his sheets and settling himself with a sigh--and then he heard his phone vibrating from its usual spot on his nightstand. With a grunt, he reached for it, blinking up at the too-bright screen.

**Iggy:** I know it's late but I wanted to tell you that I'm truly looking forward to tomorrow. 

Prompto’s heart leapt in his chest as he read and reread the text. It was nearly midnight, and Ignis was sending him quasi-romantic messages. Any doubt Prompto might have harbored was instantly swept away, at least for the time being. He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, then began typing before he lost his nerve.

**Prompto:** me too  
**Prompto:** i'm really excited about it  
**Prompto:** like i can hardly stand waiting

There was a space of several minutes where there was no response, and Prompto wondered if Ignis had fallen asleep. He set his phone on his chest, and was dozing off himself when another message came through.

**Iggy:** I didn't realize you'd still be awake.  
**Iggy:** Unless I woke you?  
**Prompto:** nah, just got home  
**Prompto:** was out with Noct and Gladio  
**Prompto:** no drinking this time tho  
**Prompto:** wait why are you still up??? don't you set your alarm for like 4 am?  
**Iggy:** Five A.M., actually. I was working late.  
**Prompto** : Ignis! go to bed! >:(  
**Iggy:** Is that an order, then?  
**Prompto:** yes  
**Prompto:** i’m sorry you were stuck at work all night for real ):  
**Iggy:** Don't be.  
**Prompto:** i always feel bad when we go out without you like that  
**Iggy:** You can make it up to me tomorrow.  
**Iggy:** Or today, rather.

Prompto was blushing as he checked the time and realized it was indeed after midnight now. 

**Prompto:** ok i mean it now go to bed young man  
**Prompto:** if you fall asleep during our date i can't guarantee i won't draw a moustache on your face  
**Iggy:** My word, we can't have that.  
**Iggy:** But I should give you the same advice. You're awake as well.  
**Prompto:** i don't have to work tomorrow tho :)  
**Iggy:** I wonder what that must be like.  
**Prompto:** Igggyyy  
**Prompto:** ))):  
**Iggy:** Oh stop that. I was only kidding.  
**Iggy:** They do let me out of my cage every now and then.  
**Prompto:** D:  
**Iggy:** The shock collar is a bit difficult to remove, though.  
**Prompto:** IGNIS

Prompto knew Ignis was joking, but he still felt a twinge of empathy for his friend.  _ Ignis works harder than any of us, and longer hours. _ The royal advisor rarely let himself stop, was always ready to jump at some command, and on top of that he spent his free time looking after his three wayward friends. With a surge of determination, Prompto decided that once everything was sorted between them he was going to make certain that Ignis was taken better care of.  _ Whether he wants to date me or not.  _

**Iggy:** I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease.  
**Prompto:** you’re not sorry, and you're not a nice man  
**Prompto:** Noct helps you with this stuff tho right??  
**Iggy:** Technically, *I'm* assisting *him,* but yes he does his fair share.  
**Iggy:** I do need to browbeat him at times, however.  
**Prompto:** want me to beat him up for you  
**Iggy:** What makes you think I couldn't do so myself?

Feeling rather bold without Ignis physically present, Prompto decided to tease him back.  _ Serves him right, _ he thought even as his cheeks burned all over again.

**Prompto:** mmm you are pretty fit under those fancy suits  
**Iggy:** And now you've made me blush.  
**Prompto:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**Iggy:** Look at the time, I really must be turning in.  
**Prompto:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**Iggy:** Goodnight, Prompto.  
**Prompto:** sweet dreams ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

After setting down his phone again, Prompto found he couldn't settle himself. For a while he tossed and turned, too keyed up for sleep to find him. Tomorrow he had a date with one of his closest--only--friends, who also happened to be ridiculously good looking and patient and kind.  _ And he's one of the most important people in Lucis, don't forget that. _ The doubt he had banished was already wriggling back in, it seemed. He was excited and terrified all at once, because if there was a way for things to go wrong in any situation, Prompto was usually the one to stumble right into it. 

_ It's Ignis. Even when he used to act all stiff and formal around me, or when he teases me, he's never been judgemental or mean. And he knows I'm a goof. If I put my foot in my mouth he'll just laugh it off. Probably. Maybe.  _

With a low whine, Prompto pulled the covers up over his head.  _ Please just let me make it through tomorrow. Preferably with Iggy asking me out again as the end result. And kissing me after. He said he wanted to kiss me. _ How many times had Prompto fantasized about getting to kiss Ignis over the past few months? He was almost afraid the real thing wouldn't live up to his increasingly wild fantasies. 

Finally, he drifted off, exhausted again from getting him worked up one too many times in a single day. All he wanted was for the next day to be perfect, even if it was too much to hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I’m relying too heavily on texting as a literary device. *shrug emoji*
> 
> I couldn’t decide while I was working on this if I should make it really long again or if I should just post the half that I had. Then I spent the whole weekend in a “I’m the worst writer in the world” kind of mood and played video games instead of writing. So yeah, I decided to split this and just post the half that was finished. Thanks for reading amigos. Next chapter should be fun good times.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is all right. Please just take it, I can't look at it anymore. 
> 
> Work has been a real pita (pain in the asssss) lately which is why this took so long and why I might not reply to comments right away sometimes. I read everything you guys say tho, and I appreciate every comment and kudos you leave so much, ilu guys ♡ (ಥ﹏ಥ) ♡

Prompto woke up bursting with nervous energy, tension swimming behind his ribs in great waves, but nevertheless feeling better than he had in what felt like ages. He laid in bed for a minute or two after opening his eyes, just biting at his lower lip before throwing back the covers and rolling off the mattress onto his feet. Today was going to be a good day, and nothing on Eos could ruin it for him.  _ Except for maybe myself. I am an expert in unintentional self-sabotage. _

The first thing he did was send an enthusiastic good morning text to the group chat he shared with his friends  _ (morning everybody!! rise and shine!) _ . With that accomplished he peeked past his bedroom curtains to gauge the weather--bright and sunny and perfect for a run. Before he could get distracted or change his mind, he was pulling on his running clothes and bounding out of the house. Even though the sun was barely up he couldn’t quite contain himself, though most of his energy was sheerly anticipatory. Part of him  _ still  _ couldn't quite believe that it was finally, actually happening. Ignis had asked him out on a date and it didn’t feel real, no matter how many times he checked his phone to reread their conversation from the night before.

_ Don't think like that, _ he berated himself.  _ Nothing is gonna ruin today, remember? _ Maybe if he repeated that enough times he’d actually start to believe it. Fortunately, running always made it easier to clear his mind; he needed to focus to ensure he didn't mow down any old ladies or trip and fall headfirst in front of a moving bus. Plus, endorphins or whatever. Either way, he felt pretty good about himself after completing a five miles circuit around his neighborhood.  _ Sweaty and sticky, but who cares?  _

When he got home he showered, carefully scrubbing away all the evidence of his run. Since he didn't need to be ready until six he put off doing his hair for the time being--no point in sitting around all day letting his perfect coif deflate. Styling pomade could only do so much. So he decided he'd make breakfast, then figure out what he was going to we--

_ Shit. _

Nobody else was home, which meant nobody saw Prompto fling himself out of the bathroom and back into his own room in just a towel. He snatched up his phone out of the pocket of his running shorts and quickly scanned the answering morning texts from his friends. Noct’s was simple, “ _ good morning, i’m going back to sleep.” _ Gladio, however, had made sure to point out Prompto’s good mood. 

**Gladio:** You're chipper today. Anything fun going on we should know about? 

_ Oh, he knows. He definitely knows, and he's gonna try to trick me into admitting it.  _ Well, two could play at that game. 

**Prompto:** wouldn't u like to kno ;)

The fact that it was Gladio of all people trying to poke his nose into someone's romantic life threw Prompto for a loop, but then the big guy did read a lot of romance novels. Prompto had always been afraid to ask why, because you didn’t just go asking your bros what they kept in their spank bank. Especially not Gladio, who had no shame whatsoever. Which was probably why he had no problem being such a sneaky busybody. For the rest of the day Prompto would ignore any further attempts to pry. Hopefully Gladio would get the message.  _ I'll tell you when I'm good and ready, nosy.  _

On to more important matters. Prompto couldn't help the smile that pulled at his mouth when he read Ignis’ reply, no matter how simple it was.

**Iggy:** Good morning to you as well. I trust you had a good night's sleep?  
**Prompto:** oh yeah totally, you?  
**Iggy:** More or less.  
**Prompto:** ):  
**Iggy:** I don't need twelve hours of sleep like some people I might name. Please don't fret.  
**Prompto:** if you say so :/  
**Prompto:** anyway, i got a question for ya  
**Prompto:** where are you taking me tonight?  
**Iggy:** Ah, now that is a surprise.

Prompto scowled even as something fluttered in his chest. The way Ignis texted, Prompto could practically hear the man as if they were standing in the same room.

**Prompto:** aw come on  
**Prompto:** tell me ):  
**Iggy:** I can't go spoiling my grand plans, now can I?  
**Prompto:** pleaaaaaase??  
**Prompto:** you should really tell me now, i can be very annoying  
**Iggy:** No, sorry. Can't do it.  
**Prompto:** ).:  
**Iggy:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prompto nearly dropped his phone at that, sputtering with startled laughter. 

**Prompto:** IGGY NO  
**Prompto:** YOU CAN'T  
**Prompto:** DON'T DO THIS  
**Iggy:** I'll pick you up at six, Prompto :)  
**Prompto:** i can't believe this, i am a bad influence on you  
**Prompto:** at least give me a hint??? plz i don't want to show up at a fancy restaurant in ripped jeans and a spice girls t-shirt  
**Iggy:** Oh very well. You don't need to wear a suit.  
**Prompto:** that's it?? you're killing me dude  
**Iggy:** You'll survive, I'm sure.  
**Prompto:** fine, be that way  
**Prompto:** i’m gonna wear pajamas  
**Prompto:** Iggy??? don't ignore me!!!!!!!

That seemed to be exactly what Ignis was doing now, similar to the silent treatment Prompto was giving Gladio. Heaving a sigh, Prompto dropped his phone on his bed and turned to his dresser. Did he even own a suit, or anything approaching dress clothes? There were some button ups and black slacks, outfits he'd worn back in his days of working at an electronics store. Maybe that would be good for a job interview, but it was nothing he'd wear on a date.  _ A date with Ignis Scientia, no less _ . 

As the thought made him feel hot and tingly all over, he heard his phone buzz again, the sound somewhat muffled by his bedspread. Still wearing nothing but a towel, Prompto flopped down onto his mattress, feeling a bit hopeless. The message he'd just gotten was an image attachment from Ignis, to his surprise.

**Iggy:** Here is your hint. I hope that is sufficient to sate your curiosity until tonight.

Prompto studied the image, frowning. It was a picture of the high wall that surrounded all of Insomnia. Obviously, it had been taken near the base of the wall, looking up towards the top--the photographer had used a fisheye lens, and they'd probably had to lie on the ground to achieve the angle. The wall itself was off limits to citizens, except for tours the government offered for school field trips. Prompto remembered going there with his fifth grade class and hating how many stairs there were. Worse yet, they hadn't been allowed to go outside at the top because of bad weather. Ten year old Prompto had been incredibly miffed, chubby hands clutching his digital camera to his chest in disappointment. 

To him, it seemed a strange location for a date, but he trusted Ignis to have something good up his sleeve. 

**Prompto:** 1: that doesn't clarify things at all  
**Prompto:** 2: it doesn't matter cuz i’m so excited i’m going to pass out  
**Iggy:** Your enthusiasm is endearing.  
**Iggy:** Also, I'm glad you're excited, but please try to remain conscious.  
**Prompto:** :))))))  
**Prompto:** i’ll stop bugging you now so you can work  
**Iggy:** You weren't bothering me. I've told you, I enjoy all of your messages.  
**Prompto:** ok now *i’m* blushing  
**Prompto:** i have to go get ready  
**Iggy:** I'm not picking you up for another seven hours.  
**Prompto:** that's how long it takes to achieve perfection  
**Iggy:** You are ridiculous.  
**Iggy:** Go on then. 

With a careless flick of his wrist, Prompto threw his phone back onto his bed, then stood up.  _ Iggy wouldn't be all mysterious like this if he was just taking me out to dinner at a restaurant or something.  _ Unless there were restaurants at the wall, which Prompto doubted. For a solid minute he stood in the center of his room, flexing his hands indecisively. _ Might as well put underwear on, _ he thought as he blew out a breath. 

He pulled on his favorite, lucky boxers--blue, and dotted liberally with yellow chocobo chicks. Anxiety fluttered low in his belly as he looked at his bedside clock. Now that he had nothing to do but wait, he was beginning to feel the initial twinges of irrational paranoia.  _ It'll be fine, _ he tried to tell himself. He hated how quickly his mood could shift sometimes. Oh, sure, he was still excited, but he knew how easily he could succumb to his own nerves.  _ Just find something to wear, then do some editing or fix your portfolio or something. No big deal, right?  _

“Yeah, right,” he muttered to himself. If he managed to not completely freak himself out by six by conjuring up everything that could possibly go wrong, it'd be a miracle. But Prompto knew as soon as Ignis actually arrived he'd relax, insofar as he was  _ ever _ able to fully relax. 

_ Just six and a half more hours, _ he told himself.  _ You'll be fine.   _   


x

At five fifty-five, Prompto stood in front of his bathroom mirror, gripping the edges of the sink. His heart felt like it was about to palpitate right out of his chest, and he was pretty sure he was going to faint.  _ I should just call it off. Tell Iggy I'm barfing my guts out, then buy a ticket to Gralea and flee the city.  _ He'd live out the rest of his days on a potato farm, and die alone in the dirt. 

There was only one problem with that plan; it would hurt Ignis’ feelings if Prompto were to suddenly abscond into the night, never to be heard from again. So, basically, he was stuck. He had no choice but to go on this date that he was bound to screw up, this date with the world's most beautiful man who also happened to be a literal genius, and was also kind and funny and a total badass-- _ and look at me. I'm a cave goblin. I'm surprised they don't make me wear a bag over my head when I go outside.  _

On some level, he knew he was being ridiculous. It was difficult to quell his fears. even so--he liked Ignis too much, more than  _ liked _ him if he was being honest. Which was what made all of this so terrifying. He desperately didn't want to mess anything up between them, be it by ruining their friendship somehow or ending this thing between them before it had a chance to really start. He had never taken any of this into consideration before, because he had never believed that Ignis could possibly return his feelings. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind, and now they were about to go on a date that would probably define their relationship for the rest of their lives.

Prompto had to blink to clear his vision, and suck in a deep, deliberate breath. _ Don't pass out, for the love of Shiva. _

The sound of the doorbell ringing jarred him out of his thoughts, and he actually squeaked as he jerked upright. With one last look in the mirror to ensure his appearance wasn't a complete disaster, he turned and hurried out of the bathroom.  _ Be cool, okay, don't say anything stupid. Fuck it, don't say anything at all. _ He reached the front entrance, took a deep breath, and then pulled the door open.

Ignis was standing on the welcome mat, the very picture of patience, every inch of him gorgeous and immaculate, hands clasped behind his back. He was wearing possibly the simplest outfit Prompto had ever seen him in, just a light blue button-down shirt that was neatly tucked into dark slacks, no coat or tie in the early evening heat. As soon as the door swung open he focused on Prompto, gaze sweeping first down to his feet, then back up to Prompto’s eyes. A devastating little smirk played at the edges of his mouth. 

“I see you decided to forgo the pajamas,” he said, and for about five seconds Prompto’s brain couldn't make sense of the words. Then he looked down at his own outfit, and found himself laughing.

“I kind of forgot about that,” he admitted, blushing hard at the way Ignis was staring. Prompto didn't have an extensive wardrobe, it was true, so his options had been limited. His mother probably would have chastised him for wearing jeans and a henley shirt on a date with the royal advisor to the future king of Lucis, but he felt better seeing Ignis so casually dressed. 

“Are you ready to go?” Ignis asked, and for some reason the question made Prompto blush even more. Maybe it was because he'd been ready to leave for hours now. 

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag,” he said, cursing himself silently when he remembered he'd left it in his room. He tried to hurry without looking like he was hurrying, and returned less than a minute later to find Ignis standing just inside the door. 

“I've never been inside your house before,” he mused, expression thoughtful. Prompto knew his cramped, single storey home couldn't compare to the royal palace, but Ignis seemed unperturbed by the tight spaces. Even the entryway was barely wide enough for two people. 

Before Prompto could say anything, or try to urge him back outside, Ignis looked down at his bag and smiled again. “You're bringing your camera,” he stated.

“Duh,” Prompto scoffed, but he was returning Ignis’ smile, even as his stomach continued to churn with apprehension. He wasn't on the verge of panic anymore, though, which he attributed to Ignis’ calming, ever-collected demeanor. “I gotta document this experience for posterity. So I'll know it really happened.”

Something shifted in Ignis’ expression, and he seemed to hesitate a moment. Then he was holding his hand out, and it took a few seconds--and some more blood rushing to his face--for Prompto to realize what Ignis wanted. Trembling slightly, he placed his hand in Ignis’, and was rewarded with a gentle squeeze.

“Come,” Ignis said, and Prompto followed almost in a daze as Ignis led him outside. They paused just long enough for Prompto to lock the door, then were headed for Ignis’ car. Ignis actually opened the passenger door for Prompto, and Prompto couldn’t help but think if he didn't stop blushing every two minutes tonight then his head was going to burst.  _ Not that I'm complaining.  _

“So,” he said once Ignis was settled in the driver's seat, “Are you gonna tell me your big, romantic plan now, or is it still a secret?” 

Ignis was grinning mysteriously as he pulled away from the curb. “Was my hint insufficient?” he asked, then winced slightly as the flash went off on Prompto’s camera. “Must you?” he said, but the amusement in his voice belied his exasperation. 

“Oops,” Prompto grinned. “Can't help it, Iggy. The camera loves you.” Was it just his imagination, or was there a hint of pink high on Ignis’ cheekbones? He quickly snapped another photo, heart fluttering erratically.  _ Definitely need photographic evidence of that.  _

“Perhaps disable the flash at the very least,” Ignis suggested dryly. “I'd rather like to be able to see where I'm going.” 

“Oh, right,” Prompto said, sheepish. He quickly adjusted the camera mode, and sat back. The car was mostly silent for the next few minutes, only broken when Ignis told Prompto he was welcome to adjust the radio. 

Thankfully, the quiet wasn't awkward. If anything, Prompto would have called it peaceful; a reminder that he didn't need to be tense around Ignis. He examined the pictures he'd just taken, pleased to have caught two such candid images. Ignis smiling so genuinely was such a rare thing, and getting one with him blushing was like spotting a cryptid. 

“You have a really nice smile, Iggy,” he blurted, and tried to bite back a laugh at the mildly flustered way Ignis shifted in his seat. It felt good to say things like that freely. Even better to know he could have that kind of effect on the normally composed royal advisor. It helped ease his nerves a bit more. 

“I'm really glad we're doing this. I didn't think it would ever happen, y’know?” he continued, the words spilling out again before he could stop them. Noting the way Ignis’ jaw worked, he hurried to add, “I was just too much of a weenie to say anything for so long. And then I was so nervous all day today, and I still am, kind of, so I'm sorry in advance if I say anything dumb. I just really like you, Iggy.” 

Ignis was smiling now, again, as he guided his car through the suburbs, heading for the edge of the city. “Please don't vex yourself, Prompto. I promise I won't judge you too harshly.” Ignis actually laughed then, as Prompto stuck his tongue out at him. Nearly fumbling his camera, Prompto managed to get another shot of Ignis smiling, this one even better because he smiled with his whole face when he laughed. 

The drive was a fairly long one--Insomnia was a huge city, but sometimes Prompto forgot just how much ground it covered. For the most part, he tended to stick to the areas he could easily reach by train, which meant he rarely left the densely populated metro area. The further one got from the center of the city, however, the more spread out everything became. After leaving the suburbs behind, Ignis drove through beautiful neighborhoods comprised of houses that were more like mansions, the buildings set far back from the road and surrounded by sweeping lawns and high fences. Beyond these residential areas Prompto knew there were industrial and military zones, but there was also farmland and conservation forests. Dimly, Prompto recalled his parents once talking about moving out to the rural areas of Insomnia. He was glad now that they had never gone through with those plans.

“Man, I wish I had a car,” he sighed, watching the landscape roll by through his window. Trees lined the road, a barrier of vegetation that made Prompto’s fingers twitch. “I bet I could get some real nice nature shots out here.” 

“Perhaps we could return someday, go hiking together,” Ignis suggested. 

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed absently, realizing a few beats later what Ignis was implying.  _ Does he mean he wants to spend more time with me? We haven’t even finished our first date! _ “Like, just you and me, you mean?” he asked shyly, wanting to know for sure. 

“Unless you’d like to invite Noct and Gladio,” Ignis said mildly. 

Prompto pulled a face and said, “Not if it’s a date!” 

“Then I suppose it would be just the two of us,” Ignis said, looking pleased. Prompto remembered almost out of nowhere leaning over to kiss Ignis on the cheek the other night. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he wanted to do the same thing now.  _ Ugh. He’s just too handsome for his own good. Or mine. _

Finally, after nearly an hour, they reached a dirt access road, and Ignis’ car rolled easily down the narrow, unpaved lane. This was obviously nowhere near the spot the picture Ignis had sent him had been taken, but Prompto could see the wall looming through the trees. He could feel something in his stomach twisting with anticipation. “Okay, are you gonna tell me now?” he asked, looking over at Ignis expectantly.

Laughing, Ignis shook his head. “We’re nearly there. Are you truly that impatient?”

“Uh, yeah, obviously,” Prompto whined. They pulled out of the treeline, then, and found themselves in an open space. The ground here was covered in gravel, clearly a parking lot, though Ignis’ car was the only one there. And at the edge of the lot was the wall, grey and towering high above them. 

Prompto was unbuckling his seatbelt before Ignis had even put the car in park, and he already had the door open by the time Ignis killed the engine. Gravel crunched under his feet, and he was tilting his head back, back, camera held up to his face. He couldn’t get a good angle, though, and began to back up, jumping when he felt a hand come to rest between his shoulder blades. 

“Forgot about me already, hm?” Ignis said, feigning hurt.

Prompto gave him a bashful grin. “Sorry,” he murmured. Then, “We’re going up there, aren’t we?”

Instead of answering, Ignis slid his hand down Prompto’s back, then stepped away and held that same hand out for him to take. Shivering from the gentle touch, Prompto grasped the proffered hand and let himself be lead to the base of the wall. There was a door there, he noted; heavy, solid steel, protected by an electronic lock and monitored by at least one camera that Prompto could see. Clearly, this wasn’t a public entrance. He doubted many people even knew this was here, but he was beginning to form a vague idea of what Ignis had planned for him. 

Ignis used a keycard to open the door, which wasn’t surprising. “This is so sketchy, Iggy,” Prompto said with a giggle that he hoped didn’t sound too nervous. 

“What, you’ve never been on a date to a secured, government facility?” Ignis asked him as the lock disengaged on the door with a loud click. Then he was pulling the door open, and leading Prompto inside. 

“No, but I guess I’ve never dated somebody with the right security clearance,” Prompto said, wincing slightly as the door swung shut behind him, clicking loudly. The interior of the wall looked almost industrial--a long corridor stretched out in front of them, and he walked easily beside Ignis, delighting in the feeling of the advisor’s hand in his.

“And now you see the benefits of my position,” Ignis said with a wink. Prompto immediately blushed, and looked down at his feet. That was definitely something he’d never thought of; Ignis was important, but Prompto hadn’t taken into consideration  _ how  _ important beyond the fact that he was Noct’s advisor. 

Before he could say anything about it, they arrived at an elevator, and Ignis needed to scan his keycard again to use it. “After you,” Ignis said with exaggerated chivalry, even dipping a little bow and making Prompto snort a laugh as he stepped into the tight space. Ignis was right behind him, punching numbers into a keypad as the doors slid shut. 

The elevator lurched, and then they were going up, and up,  _ and up. _ After only a few minutes Prompto was beginning to feel stifled. Elevators always made him uneasy, what with being both cramped and capable of plunging Prompto to his doom if the cables snapped. He watched the lights above the doors tick by, flashing each time they passed a floor and knew for certain that Ignis was taking him all the way to the top. 

“Everything all right?” Ignis’ voice was gentle, but it startled Prompto from his pensive state all the same.

He swallowed, and offered Ignis what he hoped wasn’t too tight a smile. “Just a little claustrophobic,” he said.  _ And acrophobic, but I don’t need to mention that. _ The last thing he wanted to do was make Ignis worry about him, or feel bad for exposing Prompto to his fears.  _ As long as there’s a fence up there, and I don’t look directly down, I’ll be fine.  _

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” Ignis said, and he gave Prompto’s hand a calming squeeze. 

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not so bad with you here. Just...distract me?” he asked, turning his gaze to his feet in embarrassment. He’d hate for Ignis to think that he couldn’t handle something as simple as a small, enclosed space.

“And what would you find distracting?” Ignis wondered aloud. Prompto peeked back up at Ignis and felt a thrill run through his body when he saw the intent way those green eyes were considering him. Something almost mischievous glittered in Ignis’ gaze, and then he was reaching up with his free hand and trailing slightly calloused fingers along Prompto’s jaw. “You have the most beautiful eyes,” he murmured, and Prompto’s face erupted with heat. 

“W-what, these old things?” he deflected with a nervous chuckle, wincing inwardly at his own stupidity even as he tried to look literally anywhere  _ but  _ at Ignis. 

Then Ignis put a stop to that, turning Prompto’s face back up to his. Relief sparked in Prompto’s chest when he saw there was a faint dusting of pink on Ignis’ cheekbones, though it was nowhere near the level of lobster-red Prompto must have been. “I’ve never seen any that were lovelier,” Ignis assured him. The sincerity of the statement left Prompto feeling slightly breathless, and he couldn’t help but shift a bit under Ignis’ steady gaze. Almost no one in Insomnia had eyes like his, and he’d always felt self-conscious about them. His eyes, and nearly everything else about his appearance. 

He found himself swallowing again, not sure what to say. Compliments weren’t something he was used to, and nobody had ever told him any part of him was beautiful. Mercifully, the elevator dinged, and Ignis was stepping back, letting his hand drop away from Prompto’s face.

“Come,” he said, “I think you’ll like this.” He guided Prompto out of the elevator, and the blond was surprised to see that they were still inside. A short flight of stairs just outside the elevator lead upwards, ending at another heavy-looking door. Ignis lead Prompto up those stairs, never letting go of his hand, and once again used his keycard to unlock the door. There had to be some security reason for having so many locks, Prompto thought as the door swung outwards. But any further such thoughts fled his mind as Ignis stood aside to let him move ahead first. 

“Oh, wow,” he breathed as he stepped into what had to be some sort of observation tower. Windows surrounded him on all sides but for the door behind him and one on the wall opposite, and he found he could see, well,  _ everything. _ They were definitely at the top of the wall, but he didn’t even think about the height as he moved to the nearest window. From up here, the world seemed to stretch out forever. He could see the long, lone bridge that lead to and from the city, and the dusty, red desert region beyond the channel that separated Insomnia from the rest of Lucis. Beyond that were rolling hills that went on for miles, and the sky stretching over the land seemed a clearer blue than Prompto had ever seen it. 

“Iggy, this is amazing,” he breathed, and then he spun around and flitted over to the opposite window, the one overlooking the city. The  _ entire  _ city was visible from where they were; he’d never seen the whole of Insomnia spread out in a single, broad panorama like this. He considered making a joke about being able to see his house from up here, but he felt Ignis’ hand on his arm, and tilted his head up to offer his friend a broad grin. “This is so cool,” he said, and was graced with another one of Ignis’ pleased smiles.

“I hoped you’d appreciate the view. You like it, then?” Ignis asked. 

“I love it,” Prompto corrected. “I bet the city looks even better at night.” 

“Well, perhaps we’ll get to see it later,” Ignis said. At Prompto’s questioning look, he added, “I didn’t just bring you up here to see the sights, remember? We’re going to be here a while.” 

Prompto’s stomach chose that moment to unleash an embarrassing growl, and then he did remember; Ignis had asked him out to dinner. That was kind of the whole point of this. He was about to ask about that when he realized he’d been breathing the scent of food this entire time. Frankly, it smelled delicious, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t even noticed it until now. Ignis seemed unbothered by the oversight as he took Prompto by the shoulders and turned him around. 

There was a table set up in the center of the room; it was overlaid with a wine-red tablecloth, and several covered trays rested on its surface. A silver bucket full of ice sat at the edge of the table, and there was a bottle of something propped up inside. 

Prompto felt a lump rise in his throat, and heard Ignis speaking softly as he was guided forward to take a seat at the table. “I thought you’d prefer something private and simple,” Ignis explained, “rather than a crowded restaurant. We can speak freely here, and we won’t be interrupted.”

“Iggy,” Prompto managed to croak as he settled into a padded chair. “This is…” He couldn’t finish the thought.

“Do you not like it?” Ignis asked, and he sounded so unsure, so not like himself that Prompto jerked his head up in surprise. “We could go somewhere else, if you’d prefer.” 

“What? No!” Prompto cried, reaching out to grab one of Ignis’ hands with both of his own. Softly this time, he said, “No, Iggy. It’s...it’s perfect. Just...nobody has ever done anything like this for me before.” This time he ended in a mumble, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the truth of the statement. This was the sort of thing people did in cheesy romance movies, but Prompto found an unfamiliar joy welling up in his chest, disbelieving that all this was for  _ him. _ He didn’t doubt for a second that Ignis had personally prepared whatever meal they were about to eat, had gone and set all this up,  _ and  _ he’d done it on a limited schedule, too, all for Prompto’s benefit. 

With clear relief, Ignis reached up with his free hand and stroked the loose strands of Prompto’s hair back behind his ear. “Then I am glad to be the first,” he all but purred, and Prompto thought he might actually catch fire if Ignis continued to talk like that.  _ He’s definitely trying to kill me, there’s no other reason for him to do this. _

Prompto managed to find his voice again as he released Ignis’ hand. “So, w-what did you make?” 

Smiling, Ignis reached over to pull the cover off of Prompto’s tray; his mouth watered as the scent wafted freely up from his plate. Eating Ignis’ cooking any night was a treat, but this had been made just for him.  _ If I make it through tonight without crying it’ll be a miracle,  _ he thought. 

“Spicy, honey-brushed chicken thighs, and curried tomatoes and chickpeas,” Ignis said. Prompto eagerly reached for the cloth napkin next to his plate, and spread it over his lap. 

“I can’t believe you did all this,” he said, shaking his head in wonder as Ignis seated himself. Prompto narrowed his eyes as Ignis reached for the bottle nestled in the bucket of ice. “When  _ did  _ you have time to do this?” 

“I left work early today,” Ignis said simply. Prompto passed him the glass sitting on his side of the table, and felt a surge of dismay as the realization dawned on him.

“Iggy! Is that why you worked so late last night? So you’d be able to...to…” Ignis was actually looking sheepish as Prompto trailed off. 

“Don’t you dare feel guilty about it,” Ignis said, clearing his throat as he unscrewed the bottle. “This was my idea.” 

“And you said  _ I  _ was ridiculous,” Prompto sighed. He did feel a bit guilty, but he also appreciated the lengths Ignis was going to. “You’re not gonna have to do that for every date we go on, right? I mean, if we do go on anymore.” 

Ignis was watching him carefully now, as if worried he might misstep somehow. “I shouldn’t think so. I hadn’t planned for tonight in advance, and so I had to rearrange my schedule a bit hastily.” 

He handed Prompto a full glass, and Prompto took a cautious sip of the fizzy liquid inside. He was relieved to find it was just sparkling water, lime-flavored he thought. 

Ignis caught his eye, and said a bit too seriously, “I’ll not risk you overindulging again.”

“Hey!” Prompto huffed in protest, but Ignis just laughed. 

Prompto waited until Ignis had poured his own glass and was reaching for his fork before finally taking a bite of his food. He very nearly moaned at the taste--the chicken was perfectly tender, and the sweet and spicy flavor was more than delicious. “This is so good, Iggy,” he said, “Thank you.” 

“You are very welcome,” Ignis said. For several minutes after that they ate in silence, and Prompto was glad to be able to organize his thoughts, not to mention fill his stomach. He’d barely eaten at all that day, partly because he’d wanted to make sure he’d be hungry for dinner, and partly because he’d been too keyed up to bother making anything to eat.

When Ignis broke the silence, Prompto had to tear his gaze away from the window. It hadn’t taken him long to get distracted by the view, fantasizing about traveling to the places he could see, about the pictures he could take. 

“You already said this, but I want you to know that I’m also glad that we’re doing this,” Ignis said. Prompto met his eyes across the table, and forced himself not to look away. He was generally terrible at eye contact, but he wanted to be able to look at Ignis without feeling uncomfortable.

He finished chewing, swallowed, and somehow found the wherewithal to ask, “Did you know that I liked you? Before the other night?” 

Ignis seemed to give the question some thought. “I was beginning to have my suspicions, but I was hesitant to act on them. I was previously under the assumption that you had a preference for women, and I didn’t want to risk upsetting you if I was incorrect.”

Grimacing inwardly, Prompto couldn’t help but feel chagrined. Had they both just been dancing around one another this entire time? “Well, now you know,” he said, “I do like women, but I like men, too. I’m...bisexual, I guess.” Saying it out loud was a foreign experience. Prompto had never actually labelled himself that way, though Noct knew, and he was pretty sure his parents had figured it out, too. “That’s okay, right? You don’t mind that I like both?” he asked, worried. 

Frowning, Ignis said, “Of course not. Why would I mind?” 

Suddenly discomfited, Prompto took a deliberate sip from his glass before answering. The reasons why were partly why he'd never come out before, but he supposed if he'd spilled his guts this much, why not a little more? “It’s just...some people do, y’know? They think it’s just greed, or indecision, or they think it means you’ll be up for a threesome.” He made a face at that. Having one partner in his bed was nerve-wracking enough, he didn’t know how he’d handle  _ two. _

“Prompto,” Ignis said, and he almost sounded stern, “I wouldn’t judge you for something that you can’t control.” 

“I didn’t mean...I just had some bad experiences, that’s all,” he said, staring down at his plate. He'd never admitted he was bisexual, but that didn't mean one or two people hadn't figured it out for themselves. A moment later he felt Ignis’ hand close over his own, and he risked a peek back up at him.

“I’m sorry to hear that, and I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, and his expression had softened somewhat. “Let me ask you this; how long have you been attracted to me?”

Prompto knew that Ignis was probably asking just to distract him, and it certainly worked. He went hot all over, and had to take another sip from his glass before answering. “I dunno,” he said, thinking hard. “I guess...I always was, sort of? I just didn’t really start having feelings for you until a couple months ago,” he admitted, amazed at himself for saying all of that without keeling over dead from embarrassment. 

“And when was that, exactly?” Ignis asked, and Prompto scowled when he saw the way his companion’s eyes were dancing.

“Do you want, like, the exact date and time?” Prompto asked with pretend annoyance, and then realized with a twinge of mortification that he knew  _ exactly  _ the day and relative time he had started falling for Ignis.  _ When I showed him my portfolio in that coffee shop, _ he thought, hurriedly taking a few more bites of his food to stop himself from blurting it out. He’d sort of liked Ignis before then, but he hadn’t yet tripped and fallen head over heels for him. 

Ignis was watching him with open amusement now, and Prompto wanted to be angry at him, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Shall I tell you when I realized that I liked you?” he asked gently, and Prompto was intrigued in spite of his own avoidance. He couldn’t quite manage to say so, but he nodded, and Ignis slowly began to drag his thumb in circles on Prompto’s wrist. “Do you remember the night I came to Noct’s to make dinner some months ago? The time I found you up on the roof?”

Blinking, Prompto felt his mouth drop open slightly. “That was forever ago!” He’d nearly forgotten about it, himself. 

“I’d never seen you so passionate about something. So fully engaged. I could tell from the look on your face that you loved your craft, that it wasn’t just a hobby for you,” he explained. Prompto could feel his heart jack-rabbiting in his chest, and was certain Ignis must be able to feel his pulse racing.

“You were the first person that ever really showed any interest in my pictures,” he admitted softly. He turned his hand palm up, so Ignis’ thumb could trace along the veins in his wrist. Prompto hated how starkly they stood out. “Sometimes I felt like I just wasn’t any good.” He still did occasionally, when he was up late editing, unable to get an image to look  _ right  _ and hating himself for it. “I hope that’s not a shallow reason for me to like you. I mean, it’s not the  _ only  _ reason, but you were just so nice to me that day.” 

“I’ll admit, I’d been wanting to spend more time alone with you for a while,” Ignis said. “I’m afraid I was behaving rather foolishly in that regard. Gladio became rather tired of my inconsolate pining.”

Prompto felt a jolt go through him at the words. “I knew it!” he nearly shouted, subsiding when he saw Ignis’ brow go up. “Gladio. I knew that he knew. He was trying to get me to admit it yesterday, and this morning.”

“Ah,” Ignis said, smiling crookedly, “He knew that I was fond of you, yes, but I haven’t told him anything of what has transpired over the last few days.”

“That's better than me,” Prompto sighed, “I haven't told Noct anything.” 

“Why not? Surely you don't think he’d mind?”

“No...I don’t know. I guess I just didn't think there was a reason to. I never...I didn't think you'd ever like me back.” Here, he groaned slightly, “And now I find out you liked me the whole time and I was completely oblivious, as usual.” 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. I wasn't terribly forward with my own feelings, was I?” Ignis said.

“I guess.” Prompto bit his lip, and tightened his fingers slightly around Ignis’ hand. “Are we...what should we tell them? About us.”

“What would you like us to tell them?” Ignis asked, the question sincere.

A small spark of fear kindled in Prompto’s heart. He knew what he wanted, but he’d never heard Ignis talk about relationships before. Gladio bragged pretty openly about his conquests, and Noct went as red as a beet if anybody mentioned sex in his vicinity, but Ignis was a closed book.  _ He wouldn’t go to all this trouble if he wasn’t interested in a real relationship, you idiot. And he literally just said he's been pining over me--me!?--for months.  _

Prompto couldn't really believe it, didn't understand it, but he was scared to ask “why me?” _ Later,  _ he thought.  _ Not tonight. _ The last thing he wanted was to weigh them both down with his insecurities.

“I haven't been in a relationship in a while, but I want to try,” he said, then summoned his courage to add, “If that's what you want. No pressure.” He laughed a bit tensely, and suddenly wished they weren't holding hands. Surely Ignis could feel the sheen of sweat that had broken out across Prompto’s palm. Obviously, he was too polite to say anything about it. 

There was something earnest in Ignis’ expression when he spoke. “I want that as well,” he said, and Prompto’s heart soared, “But,--” Prompto’s heart plummeted out of the sky and exploded on impact with the cold, merciless ground, “--I need to know that you understand what you're getting into.”

“W-what do you mean?” Prompto asked, feeling his throat bobbing nervously.

“I'm sworn to the Crown, Prompto,” Ignis explained, something Prompto knew perfectly well, “More so than your average Crownsguard. My life is bound to Noct’s, and he has to be my main priority. There may be times when I need to leave you to attend to other matters, and I can't...I don't want to leave you upset or resentful of me each time I'm called away in the middle of a date.” As he spoke, it sounded more and more to Prompto like Ignis was airing his own fears, rather than simply explaining his stance on their potential relationship.

“Has that,” Prompto paused, having to take a steadying breath to calm his panicked heartbeat. “Has that happened to you before?”

Ignis gave him a wry look that almost bordered on something close to hurt. “It's more difficult to explain something like this to someone I barely know,” he said. “You, at least, have some understanding of my schedule. I don't...I haven't been on many outings such as this, and even fewer second dates. Even people who know me expect me to make an exception for them, but I  _ can't. _ I try to make arrangements beforehand to minimize the possibility that I'll be interrupted, but it doesn't always work. I just...I want to try, too, is what I'm attempting to explain.”

“Iggy,” Prompto said, trying to sound reassuring. “I get it...I mean, I  _ don't _ get what your life is like a hundred percent, but I've seen you drop everything to come to Noct’s rescue before.” Ignis looked expectant, so Prompto leaned forward, abandoning his fork in favor of clasping Ignis’ hand between both of his again.

“Remember that time me and Noct were parked in some sketchy neighborhood at like, two A.M. and the guard pulled up and started grilling us ‘cus they thought we were up to some shit? But really, all we were doing was eating fries and watching cartoons on Noct’s phone, and the guards didn't believe we were  _ that _ weird, that we had to be high or something.” Ignis was smiling faintly now.

“And our dear Prince Noctis had forgotten his I.D. so they didn't believe he was who he claimed to be,” Ignis added. “I suppose they thought he was a remarkable lookalike.”

“Yeah,” Prompto laughed, “They were saying it was illegal to impersonate a member of the royal family, and we were gonna wind up in federal prison, and Noct just looked bored as usual. So he texted you, and you showed up with, like. every form of I.D. humanly possible and ripped those guards to shreds.”

“All I did was reprimand them for questioning His Highness’ integrity,” Ignis objected, though his lips were twitching like he was trying not to laugh.

“They were crying by the time they left!” Prompto said, and he  _ did _ laugh. “Anyway, I thought Noct was super lucky to have you looking out for him like that. Even though he told me after that you spent the rest of the night chewing him out for the whole thing.”

“You know I meant to have words with you as well, but I never got around to it,” Ignis said. Prompto adopted an expression of horror that was only half feigned.

“I woulda burst into tears instantly if you had,” he said, and Ignis chuckled, curling his fingers tight around Prompto’s. Emboldened, Prompto lifted Ignis’ hand and kissed the back of it. His skin flamed, but he noted with some satisfaction that Ignis went a little pink, too. 

“My point is, I get it, Iggy. If you'll get up at two in the morning to bring Noct his birth certificate, there’s probably not a lot you  _ wouldn't _ do for him. And I'm okay with that.” 

Ignis gave him a long, careful look then, and Prompto tried his best not to fidget under those discerning eyes. “Forgive me, Prompto,” he finally said, nearly whispering.

“For what?” Prompto asked, not bothering to hide the nervous jangle in his voice. 

“You are in the unique position of being friends with both Noct and myself. I should have realized you'd be more amenable to the circumstances.”

“Well, it's not like I wouldn't be disappointed if you had to take off in the middle of dinner or whatever, but I wouldn't blame you for it,” Prompto said. 

“That's...good to hear.” Ignis sounded so relieved that Prompto couldn't help but press another kiss to his hand. Grinning openly again, Ignis gestured to his own plate. “Now that that's out of the way, I suggest we finish eating before our food gets cold.”

“Oh, yeah.” Prompto had almost forgotten about dinner, even though it was sitting right in front of him. He picked up his fork again and found as he began eating once more, that he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

x

By tacit agreement, for the rest of the meal they avoided any heavier subjects. Every so often Prompto would meet Ignis’ eyes and his heart would skip in his chest, disbelief washing over him yet again. He couldn't help but wonder how long it was going to take to fully wrap his mind around everything that had happened in the last few days. It was almost like a form of shock, he thought. 

Ignis was a good distraction, at least. Prompto’s mind didn't have a chance to wander, to second guess while they talked. And the conversation surprised him, too. Small talk never failed to make him feel awkward, but he found himself hanging off of every word Ignis said.

“How is the photography class fund coming along?” Ignis asked him at one point. Prompto hated being asked about his monetary situation, but there was no judgement in Ignis’ question. 

“Actually, I finally have enough to pay out of pocket,” he declared with a little flare of pride. “I was gonna go down this week to sign up. I probably won't get in on the fall program, but I'll definitely have a space for the spring semester.”

“I'm happy for you, Prompto. One should never cease trying to better oneself,” Ignis told him. The way he said it made the words sound almost like praise, which had Prompto squirming in his seat for a few seconds. Coming from Ignis somehow gave the statement more weight; he was one of those gifted students as a child, after all. A boy genius.  _ And I graduated with a C+ average.  _

There was dessert, too, because Ignis didn't do things by halves. Prompto hadn't ever been treated to Ignis’ baking before, and he found his eyes nearly rolling back into his head as the confection touched his tongue. “I’m not as well-versed in baking as I am in cooking, so forgive me for any imperfections,” Ignis said, an off-handed statement, but Prompto didn't think he'd have said anything if he wasn't worried about it.

“Iggy, this is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, okay, like, shut up,” Prompto sighed around the treat.

Ignis laughed shortly. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

“It's just an expression,” Prompto said with a shrug, “I don't even know what I'm saying, I'm on a chocolate adventure right now.”

“Well, I'm glad you like it,” Ignis said, his tone softening.

“I do,” Prompto said, suddenly urgent, “Not just  _ this _ \--all of it. I mean, best first date ever, for real.” Words were failing him; he wanted to tell Ignis how amazing and romantic all this was, and how much he appreciated it. That his heart was swelling, and that Ignis himself was incredible and gorgeous. All of that seemed to stick somewhere in his throat, though. He really hated when that happened, when he couldn't say what he meant because his brain was overloading.

Ignis seemed to know what he meant anyway. He looked relieved again, and more than a little pleased with himself.

“I've never done anything like this before,” he said, “I wasn't certain it would work the way I planned it on such short notice.” Prompto could barely take it-- _ I'm the only one he's ever done anything like this for. Me. Why me? _ He wished he could stop thinking like that. But he knew who and what he was, and he wasn't so sure he deserved to be treated like he was  _ special _ .

“Thank you, Iggy,” he said once he thought he could speak normally. “You didn't have to do all this for me. I'd have been happy eating food truck tacos on the sidewalk.”

“Funny you should mention that, since it was my backup plan,” Ignis teased. “But I was glad to do it.”

x

They had been talking for hours, and Prompto only realized it once he saw the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, dyeing the sky in streaks of red and gold. He was reaching for his camera bag almost unconsciously, then he paused and gave Ignis an apologetic look.

“I'm sorry. You don't mind if I…?” he trailed off, noting the indulgent cant of Ignis’ mouth.

“I'm surprised you waited this long,” he said, reaching into his pocket for that keycard. “Go ahead.” 

Grinning broadly, Prompto hopped out of his chair and took the card. There was steel door leading out onto the top of the wall--it was a long walkway, protected on both sides by chest-high railings. Wind whipped at Prompto’s hair the second he stepped out onto the wall, and he momentarily mourned the loss of his perfectly coiffed hair. It didn't matter, really, at this point, and he didn't think Ignis would care seeing as how he joined Prompto a moment later.

“We're so high up,” Prompto remarked as he stepped up to the barrier. He could see so far, farther than he would have thought possible. 

“Don't look down,” Ignis quipped, and Prompto made a face at him.

“You know as soon as you say that someone always looks down,” he said, and it took an effort not to do so now. Looking out at the vast world was fine, but looking down at the distant ground would have had him running for the stairs. 

Ignis seemed content to lean against the railing and watch Prompto work. This led to several minutes of Prompto making unnecessary, self-conscious adjustments to his settings, until finally he couldn't resist anymore and began snapping away. From there, he easily lost himself. He was still aware of Ignis, but everything else fell away--he was no longer worried about the height, as evidenced by the way he attempted to lean out over the high railing. Ignis kept a steadying hand on his arm, though Prompto didn’t think there was any actual danger of him falling. 

When he thought he had enough shots of the outside world, Prompto turned back toward Insomnia, and released a little gasp. He'd been right. Night hadn't quite fallen, but the city glittered in the failing light. He hurried to take as many pictures as he could, knowing what a rare opportunity this was. How many photographers got this sort of chance? These shots were definitely going in his portfolio, and he couldn't wait to show Ignis the final result.

“This is seriously amazing,” he said, off-handed, checking to see how much battery life he had left. Plenty. Maybe he could get up on the railing to get a better downward angle. Ignis could hold onto his belt so he didn't plummet to his death, and--

Prompto was so absorbed, so lost in the zone, that he didn't notice how close Ignis had suddenly gotten until the advisor spoke his name. “Prompto,” he said, sounding strangely gravelly. There was a hand on Prompto’s arm as he hummed in response without looking up--he was scanning through photos, making mental notes, and there was a hand on his chin, turning his face up. He had a moment to be annoyed, to think, _ excuse you, I'm busy _ , then a warm mouth was pressing against his own and he forgot about everything else. 

Ignis was kissing him, and Prompto could feel his brain going completely haywire--but it didn't matter. Ignis was  _ kissing him.  _ The kiss was chaste, the barest pressure of lips, and lasted all of ten seconds before Ignis was pulling away, watching Prompto as if to gauge his reaction. Regardless of brevity, Prompto found himself reeling; his skin was on fire, blood racing, his mouth tingling pleasantly where Ignis’ soft lips had touched. 

“Was that all right?” Ignis asked him sweetly. 

Dumbly, because he had lost what little control he had over his brain, Prompto said the first thing that came to mind, “Well...I really appreciated it.”

Ignis laughed. Prompto wished he could sink down into the walkway, and covered his face with his hands, leaving his camera to dangle from its strap. Gentle fingers pried his hands away, and Prompto was forced to look up at Ignis, who just watched him benignly. 

Prompto worried at his lip for a moment, then slid a hand up Ignis’ shoulder to cup the side of his neck. “Is it…Can I…?” he asked haltingly. Ignis said nothing, just smiled and tilted his head down obligingly, and Prompto rose to meet him. 

_ It's perfect _ , Prompto thought. This was everything he'd been wanting and thought he could never have. Ignis’ mouth was soft and pliant against his, and he could feel the advisor’s hands settling on his lower back. Neither of them attempted to deepen the kiss just yet, but they didn't need to. Prompto felt like he could kiss Ignis just like this until he died; the only thing he lamented was having his camera hanging between them, but he wasn't willing to stop long enough to take it off.

They finally parted and Prompto whined softly, tried to dive back in, but Ignis just chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“I don't want to rush things,” Ignis told him, almost whispering. Prompto could hardly hear him over the wind. 

“Why? Rushing is nice. You get to the fun parts faster,” Prompto said.

“True, but it's rather drafty up here, and the floor inside is concrete. It would be murder on the knees,” Ignis said, and the little suggestive smirk he wore made Prompto go unexpectedly tingly all over, goosebumps racing across his skin.

“Iggy, that's not helping,” he pouted.

A hand came up to stroke the side of Prompto’s face, tracing down to his chin where Ignis’ fingers held him. “You're right. l shouldn't tease.” He held Prompto there and pressed another warm kiss to his lips, too brief, but then he nuzzled Prompto’s cheek with his nose and Prompto felt weak. For some reason he hadn't imagined that Ignis would be one for affectionate gestures, but now it seemed to fit. Ignis was a private man, reserved in the public eye, but Prompto had been learning for months now that there was a lot more to him than that. And he wanted more. He wanted everything Ignis was willing to give, even if Ignis wanted to take things slowly.  _ I'm fine with that. I can be patient for Iggy.  _

Night had fallen in full by the time they were gathering up dishes, preparing to leave. Ignis got nowhere telling Prompto that he didn't need to help clean up (in Prompto’s mind it was the least he could do, after Ignis had gone through all the trouble). 

They continued to talk, or Prompto did, as they packed everything away in some sort of container used for transporting warm food, then headed back downstairs to the elevator. He barely even registered the tight space this time as they rode down, too busy watching the mild curve of Ignis’ indulgent smile. “Am I talking too much?” Prompto asked him when they were about halfway down.

“Not at all,” Ignis replied without hesitation, regardless of the abrupt nature of the question.  _ I can't be that interesting for him to listen to, _ Prompto thought, but Ignis had always been a good listener, no matter who he was speaking with. “Go on. You were telling me about your favorite books?” Ignis prompted him when Prompto seemed to hesitate.

“Yeah. Well, I don't really have the attention span to sit and read, but I listen to audio books sometimes when I work. Did I say that already?” 

The return car ride seemed only half as long as the drive out had been. Prompto felt the stirrings of disappointment, knowing he was being foolish for it but unable to stop. The night had to end sometime, and it was getting pretty late at that point. Ignis recommended some books to him, books Prompto had never heard of but might have read if he'd bothered going to college. “Can you text those to me? I'll never remember otherwise.”

“Of course,” Ignis replied smoothly, without judgement. 

“I wish this didn't have to end,” Prompto mumbled, then quickly added, “Tonight, I mean. I mean, I just had a really good time!” He winced, hating himself for being so awkward now of all times, when the night had been going so well. Then he jumped in his seat when Ignis’ hand found his.

“I enjoyed myself as well,” Ignis assured him, eyes flickering over to him briefly. 

The Argentum household sat dark and empty, the parking space in front vacant. Nobody was home, still, and after tonight Prompto found himself not wanting to be alone. Ignis walked him to the door-- because of course he would, this was a date and Ignis was a proper gentleman--hand in hand, and stood patiently while Prompto dug for his key.

“Prompto,” he murmured once the door was unlocked, slightly ajar. Prompto looked up at him, warming when he saw the intent way Ignis was watching him. “May I kiss you goodnight?” 

It took Prompto a moment to answer, only because he didn't know why Ignis was asking now.  _ He doesn't feel guilty for not asking earlier, does he? Wait, no--we're in public now, duh!  _ “Of course,” he said, then as he went even hotter he added, “You can kiss me whenever you want.” Prompto wasn't out to the world yet, but he'd be perfectly fine with people finding out he liked dudes this way.

“I'll bear that in mind,” Ignis said as he leaned in, his arms circling around Prompto’s back. Their mouths met again, and it was just as wonderfully thrilling as the first time, and ended altogether too soon. 

When Ignis pulled back, Prompto nearly followed those smooth, sweet lips. He had to force himself to be still, to not whine. What he couldn't resist was holding Ignis’ arms so they remained standing close, sharing body heat that felt amazing in spite of the warm summer night 

“Are you sure you wanna take things slow, because you could come inside if you wanted to,” Prompto offered, mostly teasing.  _ But also a tiny bit serious.  _

Ignis hummed as he seemed to ponder the question, then he sighed a bit too theatrically. “Tempting, but not on the first date.” 

“Well, y'know,” Prompto said, gently squeezing the hard muscles of Ignis’ forearms, “technically this is our third date.”

“Oh? Do explain your reasoning.” A grin was threatening on Ignis face, but he was making a valiant effort to suppress it.

Prompto grinned, delighted that Ignis was playing along even if he didn't think he was going to get anywhere with this. “Well, there was that time you invited me out for coffee, and the other night at the bar when I felt you up and you were  _ totally _ into it.”

Ignis actually laughed out loud, throwing his head back for a moment. “Those were not dates!” he argued through his mirth.

“Let's pretend they were, though,” Prompto said.

Eyes crinkled just the slightest bit, Ignis shook his head. “No, sorry. Nice try.” 

“Fine. Prude,” Prompto pouted. He couldn't truly be disappointed when a moment later Ignis was kissing him again, and this one was more heated. Ignis even backed Prompto against the doorframe, and swiped his tongue against Prompto’s bottom lip. Still, he didn't deepen the kiss further, leaving Prompto a hot, flustered mess when he finally stepped back.  
  
“Goodnight, Prompto,” he said, looking infuriatingly smug. And Prompto was too stunned to do anything but wish him goodnight in turn, and watch him walk back to his car before going inside.  _ RIP Prompto, _ he thought dazedly. Ignis was definitely going to be the death of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't very subtle in implying what was gonna go down in this chapter, was I. I changed the location of their date like five times tho, I'm so indecisive it's not even funny. I hope it's not too corny? I dunno, I'm done, it's yours now. (I also made the chicken Iggy cooked for dinner the other night because I got really hungry looking up recipes, bone apple tights.)
> 
> Don't forget, you can follow me on tumblr @dirtyhecker (link is below, I'm too tired for html rn Dx) Tell me your promnis thoughts, or tell me about your pets, whatever, it's all good.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sick again this week with hayfever. I hate pollen and spring and seasons in general. 
> 
> But I love you, my beautiful readers. I give you smoch. 
> 
> Warning: this chapter contains a sickening volume of fluff

**Iggy:** I had a lovely time with you last night.  
**Iggy:** I'd love to take you out again, soon.  
**Iggy:** Come find me after your shift today. I want to see you.

“What are you all smiley about?” Glancing up, Prompto could see Noct watching him almost impassively over the top of an old issue of Batman.

Prompto hummed in distraction, lowering his phone. Noct gave him a scowl, and Prompto realized belatedly that he'd been completely zoned out for the past several minutes, just grinning at his phone screen. He gave his best friend an apologetic smile, trying to drum up a good excuse for being such a space case as he tucked the device away.

They were in Noct’s old rooms at the palace, looking for Noct’s childhood collection of Nintendo games. Prompto wasn’t surprised that they’d wound up getting sidetracked—Noct was sitting on the floor next to his bed, leafing through some old comic books he’d forgotten he had, and Prompto was standing by Noct’s desk. Before he’d become preoccupied with Ignis’ texts again, Prompto had managed to find some drawings that Baby Noct had done in elementary school. One was a doodle of Noct with another boy wearing glasses—obviously Ignis. It was pretty darn adorable; Prompto had considered teasing Noct about it, but didn't want the drawing to get snatched out of his hand and potentially ruined.

Noct’s voice had cut into his idle thoughts—thoughts of the night before, thoughts of the days to come, all of them featuring Ignis rather prominently. Prompto’s phone had been buzzing with notifications the moment he'd woken up, like Ignis knew somehow that Prompto was no longer asleep _._  Now Ignis was working and Noct and Prompto were—supposed to be—training. But Prompto grinned again in distraction, once more recalling their conversation from the night before, and Ignis’ smile, his beautiful laugh, the way he kissed…

“Prom!” Prompto yelped as Noct’s elbow connected with his ribs.

“Ow! Don't,” Prompto gave Noct an elbow in retaliation, “do that! Jeez.” At some point in the last thirty seconds Noct had gotten up and crossed the room just to jab him. Prompto had been so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed, and was now nursing a sore rib for his trouble.

“What's with you lately? Last week you were all mopey and now you won't stop smiling at nothing. It's creepy,” Noct huffed. Prompto just shrugged and stared down at his Crownsguard boots, trying to hide his guilty expression. The sudden one-eighty shift in his mood must have been rather drastic and noticeable. _I should tell him now, before I wimp out again._

“It's just…,” Prompto began, then sighed. He didn't even know where to start. All of this had been going on for weeks now and he hadn’t told a soul, not even his best friend. _This shouldn't be so hard. He's not gonna be mad. I hope._

“This is about that person you _like_ , isn't it?” Noct said, putting disgusted emphasis on the word. He’d seen Prompto like this before to varying degrees, so it was unsurprising that he’d put two and two together. Watching Prompto endure a crush always seemed to baffle the prince— _well, he's got it easy._ Noct had Luna, and if he had ever liked anyone else then Prompto sure hadn't ever heard about it. Noct got flustered if someone slyly mentioned Lunafreya, but hardly ever spoke about her, never said a word about anything romantic, or gods forbid, _sexual._

Prompto chalked it up to caution. The Prince of Lucis was a prime target for people looking to take advantage of his position. Prompto knew it had happened before, and knew Noct had been badly hurt when he'd found out he'd been used. It had made the prince mistrustful of potential friends, Prompto included back when they'd first started hanging out. In fact, that was probably one of the reasons why Noct was uncomfortable with emotions and intimacy in general. Really, it was unsurprising that Noct would be careful in that regard, particularly where his heart was concerned.

“Well…,” Prompto began again, wincing inwardly when Noct folded his arms over his chest and made a face. “Ugh, fine! I'll tell you, but you can't get upset.”

“ _Why_ would I get upset?” Noct asked, suspicious now. Wonderful. _Like I'm not already jittery enough._

Prompto began to fidget, tugging at the cuffs of his gloves and shifting from foot to foot. “It's just, uh...You know Ignis?” He winced again at how moronic he sounded. _Ignis? Ignis who?_

“Wha—wait—Specs?!” Noct said, expression morphing first into one of surprise, and then his mouth shaped into an O, like he could see the pieces of a puzzle falling into place. “I knew it!” Noct hissed. Then he punched Prompto in the arm—hard—the gleam in his eyes triumphant.

“Ow! Dude, stop it!” Prompto cried, shoving his friend hard enough that Noct took a few involuntary steps back.

Noct seemed unbothered by the push, though. He gave Prompto a sharp look and said, “I _knew_ something weird was going on. I even mentioned it to Gladio but he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about!” His expression went flat, and Prompto felt a prickle of dread race up his spine. He began to pick at his nails, and had to force himself to stop before he made himself bleed.

“You're not…,” he paused, took a breath, “You're not, uh, mad. Are you?”

Noct blinked, like he'd been thinking hard and had forgotten they were in the middle of a conversation. “Why would I be mad?” he asked. Then, with a scowl, “I mean, you could have just told me you liked him.”

“I know.” Prompto sagged a little. He'd always known, but he'd had to go and be a weenie about it.

Noct sighed as if in resignation, and thumbed at his chin. “Does he know? Iggy, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah. About that.” Prompto realized he was scratching his arms, leaving red blotches behind—another nervous habit—and forced his hands into fists at his sides. “We kind of...went out last night. On a date.” The words came out almost like a question, and he hated the uncertainty in his voice. _This is the most awkward conversation we've ever had._ Not that their friendship was shallow or anything, but he wanted this to be over soon so they could go back to punching each other and making stupid jokes.

“A date,” Noct repeated in clipped disbelief.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, a tentative whisper.

Noct glared, then abruptly deflated. “I guess that's why Ignis told me to ‘bugger off’ when I texted him to pick me up some gummy bears last night,” he grumbled.

A startled laugh forced its way up Prompto’s throat, his relief so instantaneous his legs felt weak. “Oh man. Sorry to inconvenience you like that, O Prince.”

“You should be,” Noct sniffed. “I had to go to the corner store _myself.”_  He sobered again, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Seriously, though. Good for you guys. As long...as long as you make each other happy, I…,” he released a breath, looking anywhere but at Prompto. “Just...be good to him. Or I'll kick your ass.”

Prompto smiled slowly. Coming from Noct, that was as genuine and warm a blessing as Prompto had ever heard. “Aw, buddy. You mean it?”

Mouth twisting into a grimace, Noct put his hands on his hips and managed to look Prompto in the eye. “ _Yes_ , I mean it. And I'll tell him the same thing. But, yeah...I dunno, now that I think about it, it all fits, y’know? Iggy always loosens up around you, and he needs that. And, I dunno, maybe he can calm your hyperactive ass down a little.”

“Hey!” Prompto objected. He wasn't _that_ hyper. Anymore. Some of the time. “Does he really loosen up around me?” he asked, the words a little breathy, and Noct rolled his eyes.

“Maybe some of his observational skills will rub off on you, too, Mr. Oblivious,” Noct said. “He told me forever ago that he thought you were funny, which shoulda tipped me off, because Specs doesn't think anyone is funny but _him.”_

“Really? He thinks I'm funny?” Prompto asked, feeling a lightness in his chest. Ignis had laughed with him a few times, and it always made Prompto swell with pride to get the straight-laced man to crack a grin.

“Ugh. Don't start with the gooey looks and kissy faces,” Noct groaned, looking vaguely ill.

Prompto gave him a sly look. “Jealous?”

With a choking noise, Noct spun away and stomped over to his closet. They'd pulled a few boxes out of there earlier, before they'd gotten distracted. “Jealous,” Noct muttered mockingly. He was blushing, not as darkly as Prompto did with his pale skin, but still noticeable.

“You're so easy to rile up, y’know that?” Prompto snickered.

“Fuck off,” Noct sulked. He gave Prompto a sidelong look as the blond joined him. “So...you guys are going out now. For real.” He still sounded a little disbelieving, but not truly upset.

“Yeah. I hope so,” Prompto said. “We talked about it a little.” He chewed his bottom lip a little, then found himself grinning. “Do me a favor?”

“What?” Noct said, dubious.

“Don't tell Gladio yet. I think he does know, but I wanna keep him guessing.”

Noct gave him a small, conspiratorial grin. “That's mean. I'm in.”

x

Gladio set them both to work as soon as he found them, almost like he knew about their conspiring against him. “No more slacking off,” Gladio rumbled, his frustration plain. “We're in crunch time, here.”

“This stupid conference isn't for a month and a half,” Noct whined in protest, absently moving through forms with a summoned sword. Gladio wouldn't hear it.

“Everyone needs to be in top form. This isn't a joke, Your Laziness,” Gladio fairly snapped. The prince and the Shield glared at each other in the middle of the training yard, surrounded by other Crownsguard and recruits. Noct relented first, feeling the eyes on him and going red. Prompto stood awkwardly to the side, hating watching his friends argue. He felt responsible, in a way, for letting Noct drag him away when they both knew they were on the clock.

“H-hey Gladio,” he stammered before forcing his voice to smooth out, “Can you help me out with that roll-dodge move you showed me the other day?” The question seemed to appease Gladio for the moment, and the tension drained away. Prompto was sure Gladio didn't mean to be a hard-ass—he and Noct had been goofing off instead of training, so Gladio’s annoyance was understandable.

This conference _was_ important, just as much as the Oracle's visit, even if Noct wasn't looking forward to playing nice with the Nifs. It was difficult trying to balance being supportive of his friend's discomfort, while simultaneously taking his Crownsguard duties seriously. Noct didn't need to train as much as Prompto so he probably didn't see an issue with playing hooky. _And I'm only here because he wants me to be. I’m just here as the prince’s buddy._ Yet another reminder that this wasn't a permanent position, that Prompto was never meant to be a fully-fledged bodyguard.

Which was fine. He just didn't want to let anyone down, not when so much effort was being put into making him passable. Neither could he stomach watching his friends argue. So he didn't mind subjecting himself to a few extra bruises and sore muscles if it would assuage Gladio and prevent a full-on shouting match. If there was one thing Prompto couldn't stand it was fighting, the yelling, angry kind most of all. Watching two people verbally tear into each other made him feel sick.

Everything seemed to be back to normal by the end of the day, at least—everyone’s tempers had cooled, and nobody mentioned the almost-argument again. Gladio even gave Prompto a hearty slap on the back and told him he was improving, which was high praise coming from the Shield. Normally something like that would have left Prompto feeling lighter, maybe even a little pleased with himself, but he found as the end of the day creeped closer that he was too preoccupied to let it go to his head.

When he wasn't busy dodging blows or cleaning his gun or worrying about Noct that day, Prompto was thinking of Ignis. Waiting for the end of his shift was an exercise in patience that, frankly, Prompto did not possess. His mind wandered to Ignis’ texts more than once, not to mention the giddy moments when Prompto would lose himself remembering their perfect date. Zoning out during combat training was next to impossible, but all bets were off for literally any other part of the day.

“You seem kinda antsy,” Noct told him when their shift was finally, _finally_ done. _Antsy doesn't cover it,_ Prompto thought. He wanted to see Ignis so badly that it took an effort to deliberately put one foot in front of the other until they reached the locker room. Otherwise he might have sprinted straight to Ignis’ office in his sweaty uniform.

“Do I?” Prompto said.

Noct made a face at him. “I can’t believe I didn't put it together before. You get that gooey look on your face whenever someone so much as mentions Specs.”

“I do not!” Prompto argued feebly.

“You do, and it sickens me,” Noct said, but his grimace was feigned. He gave Prompto a gentle nudge forward into the locker room, ruefully shaking his head. “I gotta go meet with my dad. Go hit the showers, lover boy. I'm sure Iggy is waiting for you, right?”

Prompto felt heat stinging his cheeks, and hurriedly moved to do as he was told. Once he was showered and squeaky clean, he changed into his street clothes and stopped to make sure he looked all right in his locker mirror. Naturally, he didn't look anywhere near as good as Ignis most likely did, but that wasn’t anything unusual. _Iggy’s seen me looking worse,_ he thought, and not many people could say they were on par with Ignis Scientia anyhow.

Prompto left the Crownsguard facility and crossed a small quadrangle outside. Ignis’ office was in the palace itself; Prompto felt a little strange as he approached one of the side entrances alone. He'd never moved around the Citadel on his own, and was almost afraid the guards wouldn't let him in, even with his ID. They were fellow Crownsguard; he knew them by sight but he didn't know their names. _I really should know peoples’ names by now,_ he thought. Being friends with the prince and his personal bodyguards was like being a part of the ultimate clique, though. It was hard to get to know anybody else when you were best pals with the bosses’ son.

One of the guards openly scowled when Prompto approached, demanding to see an ID, which wasn’t an issue. But it took the man an inordinately long few minutes to check Prompto’s ID, examining it front and back like it held some hidden secrets he might uncover. Prompto tried not to be impatient or indignant. They had to recognize him, but he didn’t dare raise a fuss when he’d just been thinking a moment ago that he didn’t know any of them by name.

“Where's His Highness?” the guard asked finally, squinting down at Prompto with an air of haughtiness. “Aren't you one of his lackeys?”

Prompto felt his hackles rise defensively. He'd been called worse for being Noct’s friend, but he hadn't expected to hear this nonsense from a Crownsguard. “Noct is busy, not that it's any of your business,” Prompto said, holding out his hand for his ID card. Confrontation wasn't his strong suit, but he'd learned it was better to stand his ground. Bullies tended to give up more easily if they realized early on that they couldn’t ruffle you.

“Just let him in,” the other guard sighed, rolling her eyes. Grumbling, the first guard handed Prompto his card, then stood aside.

“Thanks,” Prompto said curtly. Without waiting for a reply, he brushed past them and pushed through the door to the side entrance. Inside, the palace the air was cool, the black and white marble floors shining as if they'd just been polished, and every inch of the place, even the ceilings, screamed of regal opulence. No matter how many times Prompto had been here he always felt small the moment he stepped through the doors. _You were just here this morning okay, chill out._

Right. He was here to see Ignis, if he could find the advisor’s office without getting lost.

_And of course I got lost_ , he thought twenty minutes later as he finally stood outside the door of Ignis’ office. After taking a wrong turn or two, he’d had to stop and ask a palace servant for directions. Somehow, he'd expected a servant to be nice; they were both commoners after all, or so Prompto had thought. The guy had looked down his nose at Prompto, but he'd directed the lost young man to a nearby elevator.

Ignis’ office was in the north wing administrative area. His name was painted onto the door in neat block letters, along with several important looking abbreviations. Prompto raised his hand and knocked, and heard Ignis call out a moment later.

As royal advisor, Ignis could have had a massive office. Prompto remembered hearing Ignis say once that he'd turned down a larger office suite because it wasn't practical. “I’ll hardly ever be in there, I imagine. It would be wasted space.” _Jeez, that other office must have been on its own floor,_ Prompto thought as he stepped through the door. The room he found himself in now was twice as big as the living room in his parents’ house, and better furnished, too.

“Ah, there you are,” Ignis said by way of greeting. He sat behind a large desk, typing away at what Prompto knew was a high end computer. “You can sit, if you like. I'll be but a moment.” He graced Prompto with one of those small smiles that made Prompto’s knees weak. _Yeah, I will sit down, thanks._ He shut the door behind him, and then crossed the room, legs unsteady.

The chair in front of Ignis’ desk was hard, and couldn't be comfortable to sit in for extended periods of time. Was that intentional, Prompto wondered, to discourage bothersome visitors? Ignis was always so busy, Prompto could imagine that the advisor would want to keep disruptions to a minimum. _I’m not disrupting his work. He wanted me to stop by._ The reminder only barely kept Prompto’s anxiety in check. Shifting on the hard seat, he distracted himself by examining the rest of the office.

It was modestly decorated; there were a few landscape paintings on the wall, several potted plants, and a handful of baubles on the tidy surface of Ignis’ desk. A slew of framed certificates hung on one wall, a testament to Ignis’ gifted school career. There was also a bookshelf that took up an entire wall, loaded with various books and tomes, and a large window behind the desk that looked out on the palace gardens.

_I'd never get anything done with that view_ , Prompto thought. Watching birds and squirrels and people would prove too engrossing; he’d spend all day at the window with his camera. Ignis seemed not to have that particular problem, and was entirely focused on his current task. His fingers flew across the keyboard, and Prompto thought the man must type upwards of seventy words a minute.

Only a few minutes passed before Ignis was sighing and pushing back from his desk. “All finished,” he said as he did, stretching his arms above his head. Prompto watched the motion appreciatively, gaze lingering on the way Ignis’ waistcoat tightened across his chest, and blushed when Ignis caught him staring. “Enjoying the view?” he teased.

“You did that on purpose,” Prompto huffed, managing to meet Ignis’ eyes with an effort.

“And what if I did?” Ignis said, standing and pushing his glasses up on his nose. He was trying to sound imperious, but Prompto could sense his amusement.

“Then you'd be mean, that's what,” Prompto said, grinning now, rising to meet the older man as he circled around the desk.

“Oh? I seem to remember a certain inebriated friend of mine telling me how ‘sexy’ I am. One would think he'd be more enthused to see me,” Ignis said, his eyes glinting.

Prompto sputtered, but let Ignis reach out and take his hands in a strong, calloused grip. “Are you ever gonna let me forget that?” Prompto asked with a groan.

“Why would I? It was a good night,” Ignis said, smiling down at him. “Who knows how long we might have taken to divulge our feelings otherwise?”

“I guess,” Prompto said. He tilted his head up in what he thought was an inviting fashion, and saw Ignis’ lips twitch at the corners.

Instead of taking advantage of the opening, Ignis tightened his grip on Prompto’s hands ever so slightly even as he backed away. “I’ve a few minutes free. I thought we might go for a walk,” he suggested.

“Oh, okay,” Prompto agreed readily, bemused. He'd been hoping for a kiss, but Ignis apparently thought that being stingy was entertaining.

Together, they left Ignis’ office, but Ignis made no move to hold Prompto’s hand once they were in the hallway, only touching him to guide him back into the elevator. “How was training today? Productive, I hope,” Ignis said.

“It wasn't bad,” Prompto said, puzzled by the small talk. Ignis stood beside him in the elevator, hands behind his back. The ride down was too short to trouble Prompto’s claustrophobia, so he couldn’t ask for a distraction again. For a moment he considered telling Ignis about the way Gladio had blown up at them, but didn’t get the chance.

“I'll try to schedule some time to join you all this week. I've been training in the evenings most days, but I need to brush up on team exercises,” Ignis said mildly.

“I didn't know you trained at night,” Prompto said with mingled wonder and concern. _He must be superhuman. There's no other explanation._ “You really can't quit, can ya?”

One of Ignis’ wry smiles was all he got in reply. Then the elevator doors pinged open, and he was being led down the hall and through an inconspicuous looking door at the end of it. “After you,” Ignis said, standing aside. Prompto could see that the door led outside, and stepped out onto a small stoop at the head of a brick pathway.

“I've never been out here,” he said, breathing in the warm summer breeze. The scent of flowers was strong in the air, though he couldn't have named any of the plants growing around him if his life depended on it. Well, except for the obvious ones like roses, but that seemed to be the only common flower allowed to grow in the royal gardens. Everything else was beautiful, exotic, growing in a riot of color.

Too late, he remembered he'd left his camera in his locker. Ignis’ hand pressing into the small of his back immediately made him forget his disappointment.

“Noct never gave you a tour?” Ignis asked.

“Nah, I've never even been in this part of the palace. I'm usually too nervous to walk around on my own,” he said, the attitude of that guard and the sneering servant still fresh in his mind.

“You needn't be,” Ignis said, unaware. Prompto wasn't about to complain to him, either. “You've clearance to enter most areas of the palace, now.”

“I know, I'm just a nervous wreck,” Prompto said with a laugh, pushing aside his discomfort with humor, as usual.

Ignis sighed and shook his head, expression fond. A breath later, Prompto was hurrying to catch up with his longer stride as Ignis set off down the brick pathway.

The palace gardeners really knew their stuff, Prompto thought. Even if he didn't know anything about horticulture, he could appreciate how much work it must take to maintain such a large garden, nearly the size of a small park. There were rows of flower beds and decorative bushes and trees. Prompto’s hands twitched as if to reach for his camera when he saw the topiaries—one of them was shaped like a chocobo and he actually squeaked in excitement when he saw it. He saw fruit trees too, though the apples and peaches wouldn't be ripe for another month.

What he didn't see much of were other people. The gardens were almost abandoned, and he wondered about that until he felt his stomach rumble and realized it was nearly dinnertime. Which meant that he and Ignis pretty much had the place to themselves while the rest of the Citadel’s residents were getting ready for their evening meal.

Hesitantly, Prompto held out his hand, and felt tingles race up and down his arm when Ignis reached out and took hold of it. He seemed to have to think about it for a second first, though, like he was worried they might be seen. _It's not just ‘cause it's me,_ Prompto told himself, though he couldn't help but worry. Ignis was all about propriety and maintaining an air of professionalism, so maybe he was just shy about public displays of affection, no matter how innocent.

They were deep in the gardens now, and the sun was setting, casting them in shadows. Lamps were flickering to life along the path, but Prompto noted that Ignis seemed to be leading him toward a row of hedges.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” Ignis said, breaking the silence, “I was cooped up indoors all day. I needed the fresh air.”

Prompto grinned and began swinging their hands between them, which made Ignis smile, too. “Anytime you need a distraction, I'm your man,” Prompto said, giving Ignis a finger-gun with his free hand.

“Good to know,” Ignis chuckled softly. By now they had reached the hedges, and Prompto saw that the path turned to gravel here and split off into a small maze. Hand in hand, they strolled down the gravel path. It was just wide enough for them to walk side by side. Prompto stepped closer anyway, shifting his hand to tangle their fingers together.

“So…,” Prompto said after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

“So?” Ignis prompted when he didn't continue.

Scrunching his face up, Prompto twisted up his courage. “Is it crazy to say I missed you today?” His face was hot, embarrassed. It sounded absurd—they had only been on one date, he didn’t even know what they were—exclusive? Boyfriends? That was what Prompto wanted. He wanted that more than he could express in words.

“No,” Ignis said softly, and he came to a stop, turning to stand in front of Prompto. “It isn’t.” They stood before a small alcove that housed a white, stone bench. Here, the hedges were high and close—nobody could see them, not even from the highest floors of the Citadel.

Elegant fingers stroked Prompto’s neck, then Ignis’ free hand cupped his face. Green eyes seemed to rove, his thumb smoothing over Prompto’s cheek. The staring made maintaining eye-contact more difficult, and it took an effort on Prompto’s part not to look away.

“Iggy,” he whispered plaintively, pinned under that penetrating gaze.

Blinking, Ignis seemed to come out of some deep train of thought. “Apologies,” he said, quietly clearing his throat. “Just thinking.” His expression softened from its previous intensity, and Prompto tilted his face up expectantly.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout what?” he asked, though he was very nearly embarrassed to know the answer.

“Oh, you know,” Ignis said, and there was an evasive edge to the answer, a sly little grin at the corner of Ignis’ mouth. “There's a certain gorgeous, freckled young man who's been occupying my thoughts rather often of late.”

Prompto was so hot under his uniform he thought he might actually be glowing neon red. If he could have found his voice he would have been sputtering again. As it was, his brain had stalled out like a dying car battery, and his thoughts jumbled in disbelief. _Gorgeous? Gorgeous?!_ He was almost angry. Someone as attractive as Ignis shouldn't be allowed to go around just saying things like _that,_ leaving a trail of devastation in his wake.

Add to it all the fact that Prompto wasn't used to being so casually complemented, Ignis shouldn't have been taken aback when he was pulled into an eager kiss. Too eager, perhaps; their teeth clicked together painfully as Prompto surged up, and Ignis pulled back with a surprised laugh. Mortified again, Prompto covered his mouth and sucked on his sore lower lip. It wasn't bleeding, but he still felt like an idiot.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, some of his sheepishness ebbing away beneath Ignis’ obvious mirth. _It's like my first kiss all over again, but worse._ How could he be so clumsy?

In answer to his apology, Ignis pulled Prompto’s hand away from his mouth, bent his head, and—much more patiently—pressed their mouths together. How could a kiss be so perfect? This time was just as wonderful as the first few kisses had been the night before. Prompto pushed up into it, curling his arms around Ignis’ back. He reveled in the feeling of lean muscle hidden by the layers of Ignis’ waistcoat and button-up, his oh-so professional working clothes. The temptation to start pulling at buttons and untucking shirts buzzed in the back of Prompto’s mind. He shifted his mouth, lips sliding, shooting pleasant tingles up and down his spine.

Then Ignis pulled back, just enough to let them both breathe for a moment. “We shouldn't do this here,” he said thickly, swallowing hard a moment later. Prompto was entranced by the bob of Ignis’ throat for a moment, then his eyes flickered back up. “While I’m meant to be working.”

“You started it,” Prompto said, and he stole another quick kiss. _Started it with sweet words, trying to turn me to mush. The nerve._

Ignis smiled, bent and nosed at the sensitive spot beneath Prompto’s ear like he knew exactly where to touch. Prompto could feel Ignis’ smile there as he gasped and tilted his head to the side, allowing better access. Rather than kissing him there—or sucking, gods Prompto wanted Ignis to suck on his neck like a vampire—Ignis straightened, but still didn't pull away entirely.

For a few seconds, he just looked down at Prompto, expression unreadable. “Would you like to go out with me again?” he asked abruptly. If it were anyone else, they might have stuttered and blushed their way through the question. Ignis just looked adorably and uncharacteristically unsure of himself, but expectant too.

A broad grin spread across Prompto’s face. “Yeah,” he said. “Whenever you want, Iggy.” Anytime. Prompto wanted as much of Ignis’ time as he could possibly get.

“Not tonight. I've an unexpected meeting with Noct and the council later,” Ignis said with a touch of regret.

Without loosening his hold, Prompto shrugged, happy just for these few stolen moments alone. “Just let me know when.” He felt so content with Ignis pressed against him, with Ignis’ hands on him, he could have stood like that forever. It had been too long since Prompto had let anyone hold him, and he basked in the feeling, knowing there would only be more of this to come.

Ignis looked pleased as well, relaxed in a way that normally eluded him while he was working. Prompto was still a bit too shy to openly admire his handsome face for too long, so he pulled Ignis down for another kiss. Perhaps too quickly, he was becoming addicted to Ignis’ warmth. Tentatively, he tried to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue along the smiling seam of Ignis’ mouth. Behind his ribs, his heart skipped a beat when those lips parted for him, and he really tasted Ignis for the first time. They didn’t delve too deep, just uncertain swipes of tongues, but it made Prompto’s head spin all the same.

By the time they parted he was dazed but grinning, lips swollen, pulse thrumming. “You taste like coffee,” he managed to gasp out. _Jeez, what a dumb thing to say. My brain is totally mush right now._ Ignis only laughed, and kissed him again but briefly.

“I ought to get back,” Ignis sighed, but he still didn't pull away fully. Prompto let his eyes drift shut as Ignis’ hand came up and brushed gently through his hair, careful not to muss the styled strands. Gods, he thought he could just melt into that touch. _Yeah, I'm gonna need lots more of this,_ he thought. For now, his mind didn't even wander to naughtier thoughts. This mostly chaste touching fulfilled a different need he'd nearly forgotten he had, one that craved simple, physical affection.

“Prompto,” Ignis huffed in a laugh, and Prompto let his eyes flutter open.

“What?” he said. He could feel how heavily he was leaning into Ignis, and relented only reluctantly.

“It's nearly time for that meeting I mentioned,” Ignis said, raising his arm to glance at his watch. He didn't sound too urgent, but Prompto sighed and stepped back, trailing his loosening grip along Ignis’ sides and then down his forearms.

“Text me after?” he asked, still not wanting the moment to end.

“Of course,” Ignis said. Then, like he couldn't resist, couldn't help himself, he leaned in and pressed a last kiss to the corner of Prompto’s mouth. “Come. I'll walk you to the exit.”

“Will that make you late for your meeting?” Prompto worried, turning with Ignis to walk with him out of the hedges.

Ignis hesitated in answering, and Prompto grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Fashionably late, perhaps,” Ignis said with a smile—a sort of smile Prompto was beginning to think was just for him. _My heart is going to just stop if he doesn't cut that out._ “As long as I don't make a habit of it, I think the council will forgive me.”

Prompto wanted to feel guilty for taking so much of Ignis’ valuable time—despite the man’s deflection—but with Ignis’ hand in his, and his heart pleasantly fluttering, he couldn't quite manage it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve edited this like five times. It’s a little short but I just want to get it posted. I hope everything makes sense the way it’s explained, I’ve been staring at this for so long I don’t know anymore, so enjoy! *lies facedown on the floor*

“Crownsguard Argentum, can you tell me exactly what it is you think you're doing?” 

At those words--spoken in such a flat, cool tone--Prompto went completely still, a cold wash of fear making his mind whir as he tried to comprehend exactly how much trouble he was in. Fingers greased black, gloveless, hunched over the open panel of a heavy machine crossbow, he must look like the poster boy for “caught red-handed.”

“Um…” What could he say that wouldn't sound like a lame excuse? _ Stupid,  _ he thought. _ What's wrong with you? _ Not thinking ahead as usual was the obvious answer to that question.

In all honesty, his endeavor to examine the inner workings of the weapon had started innocently enough. He should have known on some level that taking the machinery apart would be frowned upon. Now he was stuck under the ice-blue gaze of the marshal himself, trying and failing not to panic. Prompto hadn't even looked up yet, but he could sense the looming presence of Cor Leonis filling the doorway to the armory workshop.  _ I'm dead. He might not kill me himself, but if he yells at me I'll cry, and if I cry in front of the Immortal I'll die of shame.  _

With a hard--almost comical--gulp, Prompto forced himself to stand up straight. It took a monumental effort to meet Cor’s waiting gaze. “I was just...the, um, th-the crossbow…” Six, this would be a lot easier if he could read the marshal's mood. Cor looked the same as he always did, though; in control, unruffled, like his face was carved from stone. 

“Marshal? You sent word for me?” A beautifully familiar voice echoed from somewhere behind Cor, in the armory itself. Ignis. Prompto felt relief for all of three seconds, then terror reasserted itself. Why had Cor asked for Ignis? Surely, Ignis wouldn't appreciate the fact that Prompto-- the man he'd been in a romantic relationship with for less than a week--had shirked whatever rule it was that Prompto was sure he had broken. A very real fear that he might disappoint Ignis overwhelmed any trepidation he might have felt under the marshal’s disapproval. 

“Yes,” Cor said, without looking over his shoulder. For a long moment, he let his steely gaze linger on Prompto, then he turned to let Ignis step into the room. 

Prompto wished he could shrink down to the size of an ant. That way he'd at least be as small as he felt now, with guilt pumping through him. A small part of him had the wherewithal to hope that Ignis wasn't somehow in trouble for this as well. _ Iggy didn’t have anything to do with this. I'll take the full blame, whatever the punishment is.  _ His treacherous mind conjured up anything from being discharged from the Crownsguard, to banishment from Insomnia, the latter being highly unlikely he knew. 

“Prompto?” Ignis said, frowning as he stepped past the marshal, gaze flickering to the weapon on the workshop table, then back up. “What are you doing in here?”

Like a switch had been flipped, Prompto found his voice again. “I was trying to fix it!” he said, all in a rush. 

Ignis stared at him a beat, then stepped closer, still frowning. “Did you break it?” he asked, looking concerned.

“No! It was...I noticed it was pulling kind of to the left, so I kept having to overcompensate for it and it was really throwing me off, so I thought I’d just open it up and look at it, and I was  _ just  _ going to look, but then once I got it open the gears looked simple enough, so I thought I'd try to recalibrate the firing mechanism, so that's...what I did.” Once he’d gotten started he was so caught up that it hadn't even occurred to him that he should ask first, or tell anyone what he was doing. Nobody even questioned him coming into the shop, since this was where he came to clean his gun. 

“You…,” Ignis’ frown deepened to a scowl, and Prompto’s heart sank. He could only imagine what Ignis must be thinking; how could he have gotten tangled up with somebody so stupidly impulsive, for one.  _ He's gonna dump me now, _ he thought miserably. “Prompto, it takes months for us to train technicians to build and repair these machine weapons.”

“I know, I'm sorry Iggy, I--it won't happen again,” Prompto babbled, trying desperately not to fidget. At that, Ignis’ eyebrows unfurrowed and climbed up his forehead.

“You're sorry?” he asked. Cor stood stoically behind Ignis, arms folded over his chest. Prompto felt the prick of heat in his eyes and ducked his head, hating how quickly he broke under this kind of stress. 

“I just got carried away,” Prompto managed. “I wasn't thinking, I--,”

His jaw snapped shut as Ignis held up a hand to cut him off, then turned to Cor. “Marshal, is Crownsguard Argentum in violation of conduct?” he asked, words clipped and professional.

“Possibly,” Cor said, “Tampering with government or military equipment is normally grounds for discharge.” There was still no change to his demeanor as he spoke, no hint that he was angry. 

Prompto was paralyzed. At the word “discharge” he’d gone cold, but it felt like something was happening that he couldn’t quite understand. Ignis was pursing his lips now, looking like he was deep in thought. Then, to Prompto’s shock he said, “Marshal, I would like to recommend that Crownsguard Argentum undergo additional training with the royal engineers.”

Finally, at this, Cor smiled--just barely, like that was what he'd been waiting to hear. “As a senior officer of the prince's personal guard unit, such a recommendation is well within your authority to grant.”

Prompto stared between the two other men, confusion edging out heavy panic. “Thank you, marshal. If I could have a word alone with Prompto, then?” Ignis said, looking just the tiniest bit satisfied. 

“Of course.” Cor’s face settled back into an unreadable mask as he turned and left the room without another word. Baffled, Prompto stared at the empty doorway until Ignis let the door swing shut, and stepped into his line of sight.  _ Okay, what just happened?  _ Prompto knew that Ignis had a tendency to think about twenty steps ahead of any situation, while he himself sometimes had difficulty comprehending what was happening in any moment when people weren’t being direct. It made him feel slow at the best of times, and maybe that's why he wound up throwing himself into so many impulsive decisions, or why he sometimes just blurted out the first thought that came to mind. He didn't think ahead, he just  _ reacted. _

Prompto looked helplessly to Ignis, who was watching him with careful consideration. “I…,” he released a worried breath, “I don't get it. Am I not in trouble?”

“Do you think you should be?” Ignis asked, expression level, but there was an unmistakable lightness in his voice.

“I dunno,” Prompto answered, licking dry lips, eyes darting. “I thought I was.”  _ Tampering with government property, of course I should be! _ Ignis had saved his ass somehow, he was sure. A rush of gratitude nearly overwhelmed him, and he might have tried to hug Ignis if his hands weren't covered in grease.

“Perhaps that is why the marshal called on me,” Ignis said. His gaze flickered upward, expression pointed, and Prompto followed his line of sight. A small camera, no larger than a tube of chapstick, was mounted in the ceiling corner. It probably wasn't the only one in the room, either. Prompto barely suppressed a wince. Somewhere in the building there was a security office, which meant someone had seen what he was up to and reported it to the marshal. 

“Because…?” Prompto asked. He couldn't quite connect the dots the way Ignis apparently had.

“Because he would rather not take disciplinary action against a member of Noct’s personal guard if he didn't have to. Someone must have reported your actions directly to him, so as the marshal he was required to investigate personally, to ensure you weren’t behaving dishonorably. Once he ascertained you hadn’t caused any damage, he looked to me for a reason not to have to file an official report against you. I relieved him of the responsibility.” He paused, looked thoughtful for a second. “My presence wasn’t technically required, but I suspect he felt he had better things to do than interrogate and reprimand one of the prince’s most trusted friends, so he asked me to be here just in case.” How had Ignis had gotten all of  _ that _ from a brief exchange of words? Prompto felt a little dense, wondering how Ignis walked around all day thinking so much without his head exploding. 

Eyes widened, Prompto said, “That...doesn't exactly sound…” He scrunched up his face. Did that mean that if he were a regular recruit, not Noct’s friend, he might not have been let off the hook so easily? That was a thought that didn’t sit well with him.

“A minor indiscretion shouldn’t cost a talented individual their entire career,” Ignis said, tone airy, a look on his face that was almost teasing as he stepped as close to the messy work table as he dared. 

“But--”

“Prompto, you dismantled a highly advanced, semi-magical weapon with the intent of improving its performance. I suspect that after one of our technicians inspects it that they will find it to be in perfect working order?” Ignis asked. 

“Of course!” Prompto said, “I was always gonna make sure it worked right before I put it back. And I  _ was  _ gonna tell somebody what I was doing, but...” He shrugged, helpless. 

“I'm sure you were, but you seem to be missing my point,” Ignis said, and he  _ was  _ smiling now, broadly. 

“Which is?” Prompto asked, unsure. 

“I'm telling you that you're not in trouble. You took initiative to fix a problem, and yes, you should have asked first, but you weren't attempting to hide your actions, as a criminal would. I believe the official language of the law is ‘tampering with intent to sabotage’, not ‘with intent to repair.’ And I've recommended you to train with our technicians and engineers, which few of our recruits ever qualify for.” Prompto just stared at him, letting the words sink in. 

“So…?”

“Prompto, if you weren't covered in grease and we weren't on camera, I would kiss you right now,” Ignis sighed, a long-suffering sound. “You certainly don't make it easy to pay you any praise.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _ “I didn’t...Iggy,” he huffed, slumping and putting a hand on the worktable to steady himself. He wanted to wipe his eyes, and almost did, but Ignis caught his wrist just in time to save him from an eyeful of grease. “I don’t always pick up on subtlety, y’know,” Prompto said. “I thought I was about to get roasted alive.”

Ignis chuckled, squeezed Prompto’s wrist, then released his grip. Prompto closed his hand over his own wrist a moment later, making sure his bracelets were still in place, and released a sigh. “I shall endeavor to be more direct, then,” Ignis told him, eyes alight. He tilted his head then, giving Prompto a considering look, “You told me you were skilled with electronics and other devices. It should have occurred to me to suggest this sooner, before your curiosity got the better of you.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Prompto said, fidgeting a bit. He wanted to kiss Ignis pretty badly himself at the moment, and self-restraint obviously wasn’t his strong suit. Relief had him close to giddy, and he was worked up by Ignis’ teasing. Add to it all that they hadn’t really had a moment alone in almost two days--the longest two days of Prompto’s life--made resisting the urge unbearable. A quick, stolen kiss here and there when no one was looking just wasn’t the same as having Ignis all to himself. “I do shit without thinking all the time. I should know better by now,” he said with a nervous little laugh.

“Impulsiveness itself isn’t a crime,” Ignis said, leaning a hip on a clean part of the table as he folded his arms over his chest. “As long as you don’t endanger yourself or anyone else, spontaneity can be an admirable trait.” 

“Oh, well I wasn’t endangering anything I think...I mean, I removed the ammunition compartment and I disabled the auto-fire, so it wouldn’t start blasting bolts everywhere or mangle my fingers if I accidentally triggered the mechanism. Oh! And I saw there was an internal component for modding that was just  _ empty _ \--did you know about that?” He felt the excitement resurge, the same feeling that had carried him away earlier when he first opened up the complex machine. “So I was thinking of this thing I saw online about these scientists in Niflheim who figured out how to make these self-contained gravitational fields, and I think I can build my own apparatus and install it in the--uh, Iggy, what are you--?” 

Ignis had him by the wrist again, and was pulling him insistently toward the door. “Come with me,” he said softly. 

“But, I--the crossbow--,”

“Isn’t going anywhere,” Ignis said, shaking his head and giving another gentle tug. “Come.” Prompto tossed a final glance at the workshop table before he was drawn out of the room.

“My hands,” he said, nervously glancing down at the loose grip Ignis had on his wrist. 

“Yes,” Ignis said as he lead Prompto out of the armory and into the hall beyond, not bothering to look back at him, “Do try not to touch anything.” He sounded almost brusque, impatient. 

“Iggy,” Prompto said, worried. Ignis didn’t respond. They reached a closed door halfway down the hall, and Ignis opened it without knocking, stepping inside and towing Prompto in behind him. As the door was pushed shut, Prompto had a half-second to realize they were in an empty office. Then he was being spun around, and Ignis was grabbing his other wrist, pushing him carefully against the wall. 

“Can I?” Ignis asked, and Prompto didn’t need to ask what he was talking about, not this time, because Ignis’ face was about a millimeter away from his own. In this, his intent was clear, and the slightest nod from Prompto was all the encouragement he needed. His mouth closed over Prompto’s, searing, different from the other, sweeter kisses they’d shared before. Being pinned to a wall, feeling like he was utterly at Ignis’ mercy made the mouth moving against his all the more dizzying a sensation. It didn’t matter that Ignis was just holding his wrists to ensure that Prompto didn’t smear back grease all over Ignis’ nice coat, it was  _ hot. _ Prompto’s response to the entire situation was to open his mouth and moan down Ignis’ throat, inviting Ignis’ tongue to slide wetly against his own. 

“Six, Prompto,” Ignis breathed, pulling back. The kiss couldn’t have lasted more than twenty seconds, but they were both panting, chests heaving against each other. When Ignis bent his neck, pressing their foreheads together, Prompto could feel the dampness of Ignis’ skin and it made his heart leap. “You are brilliant. Please never doubt that,” Ignis murmured. 

Prompto wanted to make some denial, but he swallowed it down. Ignis filled his senses, pushing aside everything else, even the little voice in the back of Prompto’s head that insisted he was nothing special.

“You’re the smart one,” was what he wound up mumbling as Ignis pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Hands released his wrists and came up to cup his face. Ignis’ gaze was earnest as he pulled back just far enough to look Prompto in the eyes. “With books and facts, yes. With strategies and careful planning ahead. I can read a diagram of a bioblaster and explain in detail how it works, but I’d be lost if you put one in front of me and asked me to disassemble it.” Prompto must have looked unconvinced, because he added, “There are different kinds of intelligence, Prompto.” His expression turned teasing. “You’re also adorable when you get excited about something. It’s very endearing.”

Prompto made a noise of objection, and nearly forgot himself as he went to push at Ignis’ chest. He curled his hands into fists instead, frustrated at being unable to touch Ignis, and pouted up at him. “I need to go finish putting that crossbow back together and clean up,” he said.  _ Then I’m gonna get you back for getting me all worked up like this. “Taking it slow” my ass.  _

“Oh, very well,” Ignis sighed, but he grinned and pressed another lingering kiss to Prompto’s mouth. The action made Prompto’s heart swell, the feeling of soft, perfectly shaped lips against his own almost too much to bear. Ignis acted like he found Prompto irresistible--in a moment like this, it was impossible for doubt to rear its ugly head. 

Nobody was in the hall outside, and that was where they parted ways. Ignis trailed a hand down Prompto’s back as they separated, and it felt like a promise.  _ I’m not done with you yet, _ he was saying. Prompto just wished they could do  _ more. _ Ignis was still shy of touching him too overtly in public, but with their limited time together there hadn’t been a chance for Prompto to wonder why.  _ It hasn’t even been a whole week. We’re still new.  _ It wasn't like Prompto was ready to go fully public yet--he hadn't told his parents and wasn't sure when he would. But he liked to touch, to hold hands and drape arms around a...whatever Ignis was to him now.

He was doing his best not to dwell on it, and it was easier than usual for him not to obsess over the little things. Thoughts of Ignis made him feel like he was floating, like his chest might burst (in a good way), and he could only enjoy the feelings as they swept over and through him. Most of the time, at least. 

Finishing his work took twice as long as it might have otherwise once he was back in the workshop, and this time it really was all Ignis’ fault.  _ The man does things to me. How am I supposed to concentrate after a surprise makeout sesh like that?  _ Ignis made it hard to think straight, hard to focus--well,  _ harder. _ Prompto wasn’t very astute at the best of times, but his head was pleasantly clouded these days. He wanted so badly to get Ignis alone,  _ really _ alone, to have the man to himself for a night with maybe more than kisses shared between them. That kiss had reignited something in Prompto, that same desire he’d felt for Ignis the day he’d seen the other man practicing in the training yard. 

What, exactly, were the parameters for taking it slow? Prompto wanted to find Ignis and ask, but he also didn't want to come off as pushy, or impatient, or selfish. He still didn’t mind waiting, but it felt like he'd already been doing so for a long time, since he'd wanted Ignis well before they'd finally gone on that first date. Thoughts like that left him feeling guilty, but he also didn't think he was just being his usual, horny self. He knew what it felt like to just want to fuck someone, and he knew he wanted  _ more _ than that from Ignis, more than just sex, though that would be nice. He wanted everything, but  _ that _ felt selfish too. 

And it frightened him a little to want anyone in that way, much less Ignis. Years had passed since the last time Prompto could say he'd honestly thought he was falling for someone. Ignis was such an amazing person, and Prompto still couldn't quite believe how lucky he was that Ignis even knew he existed, much less that they were dating now. Prompto wanted to be good enough for him. He wanted to be as brilliant as Ignis thought he was. 

_ Maybe I’m overthinking things,  _ he thought pensively, biting his lip as he finally rinsed the grease from his hands. He should just go with the flow, see where this relationship took them. Or was that too passive? What if Ignis started to think Prompto wasn’t that interested, because he wasn’t trying to take things to the next level?

“It’s been like four days!” he berated himself in the bathroom mirror. The next level up from where they currently were was probably something silly like sharing an ice cream cone. Which, come to think of it, would probably be a lot of fun…

_ Okay, stop it. Executive decision. You’re not gonna stress yourself out over this anymore.  _ Six, but it would be a lot easier to do that if he were anybody but himself. Or, if Ignis were there in the training facility bathroom with him, distracting him from these wandering thoughts. 

Prompto felt his phone vibrating, then, where it sat in  his pocket.  _ What is he, a mind reader, too?  _ There was a text from Ignis, along with a message from Gladio--who was still amusingly in the dark--and couple of notification from King’s Knight. The latter two he ignored.

**Iggy:** I’m sorry if this is rather sudden, but are you free tonight?

Heart pounding, Prompto responded with an enthusiastic: uh, hell ya i am :DD

**Iggy:** Perfect. Meet me at my office once you’re off duty.    
**Prompto:** should i go home and change?  
**Iggy:** Whatever spare clothing you have with you should suffice.  
**Prompto:** okie :))))  
**Prompto:** just so we’re clear this is a date right??  
**Iggy:** Yes, though perhaps not as elaborate as the last.  
**Prompto:** that’s ok. as long as i can kiss you again :^)   
**Iggy:** You’re very distracting, you realize.  
**Prompto:** of course i realize, i’m pretty sure “distracting to others” is on my resume  
**Iggy:** I wouldn’t be surprised. But I like being distracted by you.  
**Prompto:** ugh how are you so suave over texts?  
**Iggy:** It’s a natural, Six-given trait, I’m afraid. Not something that can be taught.

Prompto bit his lip, leaning against the bathroom sink as he tried to think of a snarky comeback. Then his eyes flickered to the time displayed in the upper corner of his phone screen, and blanched slightly. 

**Prompto:** uh oh  
**Prompto:** i’m late for drills  
**Prompto:** gladio is going to throw me like a javelin  
**Iggy:** Go then. I’d hate to have to pry you out of the ground.  
**Prompto:** i’m already going! see you tonite!

  
Prompto was indeed jogging down the halls, hoping Gladio was still stretching and maybe hadn’t noticed his tardiness. Not likely. Well, at least Prompto had another date to look forward to while he was being punted around the training yard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Also! Flykiwiflyaway drew a super cute [fanart](http://flykiwiflyaway.tumblr.com/post/160150571774/screens-kinda-small-but-scene-from-rule-of) for this fic! Go look at it!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take a moment to be Serious Marley and thank you guys for all your support, all your nice comments and kudos this far really mean a lot to me. I've had pretty bad anxiety about posting the last couple chapters but you're all so sweet and I love you ♡♡♡ I can't believe I made it 15 chapters, but it's all because of your encouragement.

Ignis’ office door was slightly ajar when Prompto finally arrived just after five o’ clock. He'd only taken one wrong turn this time and was feeling pleased with himself, not to mention eager to see Ignis again. The day had absolutely  _ dragged _ after their kiss that morning in the empty office. Prompto could still remember the feeling of Ignis’ mouth on his, and the heat they'd shared. Gladio had been distinctly annoyed at him all day, and had been even more frustrated by Prompto’s careless shrug when he'd demanded to know why Prompto was so distracted. 

Wearing a broad--and probably goofy--grin, Prompto knocked on the door then stuck his head in. Ignis was behind his desk again, this time bent over a stack of papers that he was rapidly leafing through. “Yes, what is it?” he said in a curt tone without bothering to look up, and Prompto bit his lip, feeling his grin grow wider.

“Emergency meeting with the council, sir,” Prompto squeaked out, hoping he sounded like one of the palace pages. 

Ignis’ head jerked up, an exasperated glower already firmly in place, but the expression faltered when he saw a snickering Prompto leaning halfway through the door. “Oh yes, very funny,” Ignis said, exhaling as he tried to maintain his irritated facade. 

Prompto stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “I thought it was,” he said without dropping his pleased expression.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know,” Ignis replied dryly, but he was no longer glaring as he reached up and pulled off his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and said, “If I have to attend _one_ _more_ bloody meeting today I'm going bite someone's head off.” 

“Well, let's get the hell out of here before anyone else comes and drags you away,” Prompto said, coming forward to lean over Ignis’ desk. 

“Capital idea,” Ignis said, lips twitching, replacing his spectacles. His expression softened, and to Prompto’s surprise he stood abruptly and leaned over just far enough to press their mouths together, brief and warm and holding a subtle promise of  _ more. _ The grin Prompto had been wearing morphed into something sweeter as Ignis pulled back. “I'm glad to see you,” Ignis said, voice more like a rumble deep in his chest. 

“Oh. Me too,” Prompto said, eyelashes fluttering, a little bashful, though his heart was pounding.  _ Wow, that was...wow. _ Such a gentle kiss, but it had caught him off guard in an entirely different way than their spontaneous makeout earlier that day. 

Ignis looked almost smug then as he straightened and reached for the jacket draped over the back of his seat. “Shall we?” he said, and circled around the desk as he shrugged into the blazer, abandoning his paperwork.

“Yeah!” Prompto said, eager again, bouncing along beside Ignis as they left his office. “Where we goin’ this time?”

Ignis smiled down at him, putting a hand on Prompto’s back to turn him down the hall. “Do you like seafood by any chance?”

x

The place Ignis took him to wasn't like anything Prompto had been expecting. A part of him was nervous they'd wind up at one of those high-end seafood restaurants uptown that had coat-checks and served dishes with unpronounceable names. He knew he was  _ way _ under-dressed for something like that in an old band t-shirt and artfully ripped black jeans. 

Ignis was still wearing his work clothes, though he removed his tie and undid the first few buttons on his shirt. None of that made him look any less gorgeous or sophisticated, but Prompto had enjoyed the show. He'd even gotten Ignis to blush again under his open admiration, though Prompto had gone pretty red too.  _ Payback, _ he thought, regardless. Knowing he affected Ignis that way was definitely a thrill. 

At one point Ignis had placed his hand on his own knee, driving casually one-handed. Prompto had spent a few minutes agonizing over whether or not to reach over and take that hand in his own. Would Ignis mind, or would it be too distracting? They'd done this before, but Prompto couldn't help worrying, until finally he felt Ignis’ fingers brush against his own. He'd been so busy  _ thinking _ about holding Ignis’ hand--like the weenie he was--he hadn't noticed Ignis reaching over to him. Huffing a laugh at his own stupidity, Prompto took the offered hand and watched a small, pleased smile form on Ignis’ lips.

They were somewhere near Insomnia’s seaport district now. Prompto could see intermittent flashes of the wall between buildings as Ignis’ car trundled down the road. The wall jutted out directly into the ocean in some places, and strictly regulated trade ships and fishing vessels were allowed in and out through a series of gates further out in the bay. Someday, Prompto thought he'd like to see the ocean up close and unobstructed by a looming wall. Here in Insomnia the water was always dark and choppy, but he'd seen pictures of places with water that was clear all the way to the bottom. It would probably be a lot more fun to swim in at the very least. 

The drive took about forty minutes, which was pretty good for rush hour, Prompto thought. Ignis was a good driver, navigating the city’s maze of streets and bridges with ease. He seemed to have an almost supernatural ability to find back ways that weren't clogged with other motorists. Prompto imagined that probably had something to do with his royal advisor or Crownsguard training. Someone in Ignis’ position must have to have intimate knowledge of routes through the city, and had probably learned cool stunt driver training for emergencies. 

Prompto was about to ask if that were true--and when he'd get to learn--when they arrived at their destination. It was an almost picturesque marina, tucked away in a far corner of the bay and nearly unnoticeable until they were literally driving up to it. 

Just adjacent to the marina, separated from the docks by a narrow road, was a row of small shops and concessions. There were a surprising amount of people milling about, though most were congregated around a small picnic area toward the end of the road. With the car windows cracked, Prompto could smell a tantalizing combination of sea salt and cooking food. 

“Oh man,” he said, pressing the button to roll the passenger window all the way down and breathing deeply. “If they have saltwater taffy here I'm gonna lose my friggin mind.” 

Ignis chuckled softly and turned his car into a small lot, and pulled into a spot that looked right out over the bay. “I believe you may be in luck in that respect,” he said warmly. 

“We can get some, right?” Prompto said as he turned away from the window to face Ignis. “I promise I won’t eat it all and spoil my ap--,” he cut off hard as Ignis unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned abruptly over to kiss him, surprising him  _ again. _ He breathed out through his nose, a soft, startled sigh, and then returned the kiss, one hand sliding up the strong column of Ignis’ neck. 

To his disappointment, Ignis pulled back after only a few sweet moments, but then he pressed another quick kiss to Prompto’s cheek. “You can have whatever you like,” Ignis told him, and Prompto blushed.

“Iggy,” he groaned, “You’re killing me, y’know that?” All these amazing kisses were going straight to his libido, and he had to quash the desire to ask Ignis to take him somewhere more private.

Ignis only smirked at him, and what a devastating expression  _ that  _ was. Then he was climbing out of the car, and Prompto had to scramble to follow him. They strolled side-by-side back up to the row of shops, and Ignis kept his hand at the small of Prompto’s back. It was an innocuous enough point of contact, though Prompto couldn’t help but want to do more, even if it was only to hold hands. After that kiss in the car he couldn't help it--he  _ needed _ to be closer, more intimate. Nobody was paying them any mind, and he didn’t think that would change unless they did something drastic, like tear off all their clothes and start making out in the middle of the road. The mental image made him snort, drawing a raised eyebrow from Ignis.

“Something you want to share?” he asked.

“Just imagining you ravishing me in front of all these innocent bystanders,” Prompto said sweetly, and then burst out laughing as twin spots of red bloomed on Ignis’ cheekbones.  _ Maybe he really is just shy, _ he thought. Not too shy to drag Prompto into empty offices to suck face, or surprise attack him in a car, but there were few to no prying eyes in those places. 

Clearing his throat, Ignis directed Prompto across the road toward one of the concession stands. “Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself,” he said, grumbling a bit as Prompto fairly skipped beside him, humming with mirth.

“You’re a prude,” he sing-songed, and Ignis scowled.

“Pardon me? Did you say you want to buy your own dinner?” Ignis asked as he drew up, folding his arms over his chest. 

Prompto squawked in protest, and pouted up at the other man. “Aw, come on, Igster. I was just kidding!” Ignis seemed mollified, mostly because he was too busy being amused by the nickname “Igster” to carry on pretending to be angry. 

There were several take-out stands along the row of businesses, restaurants with open counters where passersby could order food, but there was no seating. Ignis stopped at one of the stands in particular that seemed to offer a variety of seafood dishes. 

“Now I’m going to need you to trust me on this,” Ignis said as they got in line, his tone so deeply serious that Prompto was sure he was joking. “The food here may seem like simple fare, but it is quite delicious.” 

“I trust you Iggy,” Prompto replied with equal gravity. Then he paused and added, “It doesn’t seem like the type of place you’d be into, though.”

“And why not?” Ignis said, “Because it’s inexpensive?” 

“Well, yeah, that,” Prompto said. “I just figured you’d be kind of a food snob.” 

Ignis’ face pulled into an expression that was somewhere between offense and amusement. “Perhaps I am, but an overblown price tag does not a gourmet dish make.” He gestured for Prompto to step up to the counter as the line moved forward. “As I was  _ saying _ , though, you may order whatever you like, but I would recommend the fish and chips.” 

That was probably the least elaborate item on the menu, but Prompto wasn’t about to argue any further with Ignis’ recommendations. Their food came up in short order, served in paper trays, and Ignis guided Prompto toward the end of the street. There they found a seawall overlooking a sandy inlet that was too small to be called a beach, and they sat on the wall to eat. Prompto pulled his legs up onto the low wall, sitting cross-legged so he could face Ignis while they ate and chatted.

It was so simple, just the two of them doing something they might have done as friends, but that somehow made the whole thing feel more significant. This was the sort of date Prompto thought he might have cooked up himself, and he guiltily realized that he probably shouldn’t put the onus on Ignis to come up with all of their romantic outings.  _ I’ll have to think up something, like, super incredible and romantic. Maybe involving chocobos. Everyone loves those birds.  _

“So,” Ignis said, frowning up at the sky. It had grown overcast since they’d parked, and Prompto hoped it didn’t rain. “You mentioned you were going to go sign up for that photography class you wanted to take. Did everything work out with that?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto said around a mouthful of food, brightening and hurrying to swallow at Ignis’ pointed look. “I went down to sign up the other day, and now I’m broke.” He said it lightly, though he was wondering how exactly he was going to pay for a romantic chocobo date with all the money he didn’t have. “I registered too late for this year, but I’m definitely gonna be on the list for the spring semester.” 

“That’s wonderful,” Ignis said. “I do envy you, you know. I occasionally wish I had the free time to further my own studies.” 

“Really?” Prompto said, making a face. “Didn’t you take, like, all advanced classes, Smart Guy?” 

“Yes,” Ignis said with a small grin. “I skipped several academic levels as well.”

“Ew,” Prompto huffed, and Ignis laughed. 

“Didn’t you like school at all?” Ignis asked him.

“Not especially,” Prompto said, shifting a little on the stone wall. “You remember listening to me whine about it, right?” 

“I assumed you were exaggerating,” Ignis said. “Whenever you and Noct studied together you appeared astute enough.”

Prompto cleared his throat and took a sip from the soda he’d gotten with his food. “Yeah. I, uh, may have been trying to impress you,” he mumbled. “Not, like, because I had a crush on you back then! I mean, I thought you were hot, of course, but I was still pretty deep in the closet.” He cleared his throat again, harder, blushing now under Ignis’ attentive grin. “ _ Anyway. _ I knew you were smart and all, and I didn’t want you to think I was a total dunce.” 

Ignis smile fell slightly, and he reached over to gently squeeze Prompto’s knee. “I never thought any such thing about you,” he said firmly. “If you had asked me I might have helped you two study more often.” 

“Well, gee, it’s a little late for that,” Prompto sighed with theatric regret. Then he frowned and said, “There isn't some kinda entrance exam to train with the royal engineers, is there? Because nobody warned me about that evaluation I had to take to join the Crownsguard and I just barely passed.” Prompto honestly hadn't been expecting it the first time he'd walked into Monica’s office, thinking he was just going to be filling out paperwork. He still had a niggling feeling that somebody--Ignis or Noct--had pushed his application through in spite of his questionable results. 

Ignis looked apologetic, squeezing Prompto’s knee again before pulling his hand away. He took a thoughtful bite of his food before answering. “There may be a small, perfunctory exam,” he said slowly, then quickly added, “But I will go over the material with you, of course.”

Prompto’s momentary panic subsided somewhat. The thought of spending more time with Ignis was always an enticing one, even if Ignis was going to be drilling boring technical nonsense into Prompto’s head. 

“But we won't be worrying about that until after the conference,” Ignis said, waving a hand dismissively in the air. “Let's not talk about work anymore; I'd rather like to forget I even have a job for a few hours.”

Getting Prompto off and running at the mouth was no difficult task. This time, he peppered Ignis with questions; what was it like growing up in the Citadel, what was his favorite movie, did he like pineapple on pizza?  _ Y’know, the important questions, _ he thought.

Ignis considered each question carefully, even the sillier ones. He had seemingly endless patience for Prompto’s nonsense, something Prompto once again found that he was deeply grateful for. He knew he could come off as annoying, and it hurt more than he would have admitted whenever he could sense that someone was getting tired of talking to him. But as much as he looked for it, that expression never so much as shadowed Ignis’ face. Exasperation sometimes, but any negative emotion was always overwhelmed by fondness or amusement. 

“I do enjoy classical music,” Ignis was saying long after they had finished eating, their empty cups and trays deposited into a nearby garbage bin. “It's relaxing and it helps me think without being distracting, but I have an equal love for most other genres. I am particularly fond of indie rock.”

Prompto tried to imagine Ignis in jeans and a band tee at a rock show and couldn't manage it. He had a mental picture of the royal advisor in the middle of a mosh pit wearing his usual working outfit, a jacket and tie, immaculate, arms folded, glasses in place. Nobody would dare bump into him, no matter how wild the pit got. 

Then again, Prompto knew now that Ignis wasn't as stiff and unflappable as he often pretended to be. As long as they had known each other, Prompto had been under the impression that Ignis was a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, but now that he knew better he wondered when in Ignis’ life had he ever been allowed to just be himself and have fun? Did that have anything to do with why he was so reluctant to show affection in public?

The thought made Prompto feel an unexpected flicker of sadness.  _ Nobody should have to hide themselves the way he does.  _ Ignis was human, a young man who had had to grow up too fast to suit a position he hadn't even asked for.

A gentle bump against his shoulder jogged him out of his thoughts, and he realized he'd spaced out. Ignis had leaned over to brush their shoulders together and was watching him with patient curiosity. “What are you thinking?” he asked. 

“Oh, uh, nothing. Just…,” he trailed off, shivering as a sudden gust of cool air blew off of the bay. The sky was rapidly darkening, and he shook again as he felt a few cool drops splatter against his bare arms. 

“Hold that thought,” Ignis said, standing up from the wall in one smooth motion and dusting off the seat of his pants. “I think we left my car windows down. Shall we?”

Walking quickly, they made it back to Ignis’ car just as the sky really opened up. Prompto groaned once they were safely ensconced in the car, windows up, and patted at his limp, wet hair. _Great. Hair_ _ruined. Now I look like an actual ragamuffin._

Ignis started the car and turned the heat on low to help alleviate their dampened state. Outside, the rain thundered in heavy, grey sheets that turned the world blurry. It was too dangerous to drive in, so Ignis set the radio to a quiet murmur and then clasped Prompto’s hand in his. 

“Are you going to tell me what has you so quiet?” Ignis asked him, reminding Prompto of his troubled thoughts. 

Prompto looked at him--really  _ looked _ at him--and a worried expression flickered over Ignis’ handsome features. “Iggy, are you...are you not out?” Prompto asked, and gave himself a mental smack. That hadn't been what he'd wanted to ask--well, it had been, but not right off the bat! He'd meant to ease into it somehow, but the other questions he had all felt half-baked as they rolled around in his head. 

For his part, Ignis blinked in surprise. “I…,” he began, looking taken aback, hesitant--not at all like his usual collected confidence. Finally he settled on a question of his own, adjusting his glasses as he said, “Why do you ask?”

There was a moment where Prompto considered backpedaling, or making up some lame excuse, but he  _ did  _ want to know the reason, to understand. _ I’m not trying to be nosy, _ he rationalized,  _ I care about him and this is kinda important. _ Ignis was a public figure, and the last thing Prompto wanted to do was cause any problems for him.

“It’s just...I noticed you don’t hold my hand when there are other people around, and you wait until we’re alone to kiss me...I mean, it’s not a big deal or anything! I just wanted to know in case, y’know, you didn’t want to do that stuff with me in public.” He kept his gaze on their joined hands as he spoke, rubbing his thumb anxiously along the back of Ignis’ knuckles. 

“Oh, Prompto, I--,” Ignis began, faltered, and Prompto dared to peek up at him. “I hadn’t realized--I didn’t--,” He paused, took a deliberate breath, and turned in his seat so he could clasp Prompto’s hand between both of his. “It was not my intention to make you feel as though I didn’t want to be seen with you. I...I told you that I have not had much experience in relationships, and I am  _ not  _ ‘out,’ as you put it.” He spoke slowly, and there was something earnest in his words, so that Prompto felt compelled to maintain eye-contact. 

“Iggy, it’s okay, I just…” Ignis was shaking his head, and Prompto let his words trail off. 

“I’m not out. Noct and Gladio are aware of my preferences, but I don’t believe anyone else is. I hadn’t ever...I didn’t plan on making it known,” he said softly, and he sounded almost rueful.

“Is it...Is that, like, a problem? Because of your position?” Prompto asked. 

“Not as such,” Ignis said, and his brow furrowed. “I mostly felt that my sexuality just wasn’t anyone else’s business. But now, with you...You understand that I think you are incredible and talented, but I worry that not everyone will see that, that they would only see you as a commoner. I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t want you to be mistreated on my account.” Guilt had crept into his voice, and Prompto could see his throat working. 

“Oh,” Prompto said. Ignis had been trying to shield him. That was...not what he’d been expecting. “Iggy, I...that’s really sweet, but I can handle people talking shit about me. It’s just words.” 

Ignis’ brow dipped further, and he briefly squeezed Prompto’s hand. “But it isn’t ‘just’ words,” he protested. “Words can cause damage as surely as a physical blow. You haven't been amongst the nobility, you don't understand how vicious and petty courtiers can be.” 

“Yeah, well, it probably wouldn’t be anything I hadn’t heard before,” Prompto said, perhaps a bit too flippantly. 

Ignis looked dismayed. “And perhaps that is why I should keep you from it. You deserve nothing but kindness,” he said with a fierceness that made Prompto’s heart stutter. 

“I am an adult, y’know,” Prompto said, a little wry, but he thought he understood. There were people at the Citadel who already looked down their noses at him, though. What difference would it really make if they knew about him and Ignis? “You can't protect me from every bad thing someone might say about me,” he added. 

“I can try,” Ignis said firmly, eyes hardening for a few seconds. 

Prompto let his tongue dart out to wet his lips, and warmed when he saw Ignis track the movement with intent green eyes. “That’s...That all makes sense,” he said. Knowing what Ignis was thinking was certainly much better than letting himself worry forever over whether or not Ignis was embarrassed to be seen with him. “I get it. You’re just looking out for me. I guess I was just being insecure,” he added, trying to play it off as a joke, but his voice was flat in his own ears. 

“Because of my actions,” Ignis said solemnly. “I promise I won’t keep us a secret forever. I’ll admit that I’d like to keep you to myself for the time being, but I could never be ashamed of what we are.”

Prompto’s heart sped up again. “And--and what are we?” he asked, going for coy but falling short once more. 

Ignis smiled slightly and lifted Prompto’s hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “What would you like us to be?” he asked, and there was a new playfulness in his words that made Prompto want to stick his tongue out at the other man. 

_ Fuck it. I know what I want. _ “I want to be your boyfriend,” he said, a tad breathless. “If--if that’s what you want.”

“I could think of nothing I’d want more,” Ignis said in a low rumble. 

Before Ignis had even finished speaking Prompto pounced, unable to contain himself any longer. With his entire body thrumming, he threw himself across the center console, winding arms around Ignis’ neck as he crushed their mouths together. This time he made sure to be a little less careless than when he'd kissed Ignis in the garden, but it was still a bit sloppy. He didn't care. He didn't care either that the center console dug into his hip with the awkward angle he leaned across it. All he cared about was the amused, approving hum that Ignis gave before he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Prompto nibbled at Ignis’ lower lip, begging entry, but Ignis seemed determined to tease him. At his waist he felt Ignis’ hands tugging on him, and Prompto let those hands guide him until he sat more comfortably in Ignis’ lap, sideways, legs draped across the console. He didn't release his arms from around Ignis’ neck, though they parted a moment for air. Taking advantage of the moment, Ignis pressed petal-soft kisses to Prompto’s already flushed cheeks, which just made him blush harder.

Prompto scrunched up his face, even though he loved every second of it. His expression just made Ignis laugh, and Prompto decided he loved that sound, too. But he remembered he'd promised himself to get Ignis back for all his teasing, and an idea formed in his head.

“What is it?” Ignis asked when Prompto pulled back. He didn't move too far--he could see Ignis’ pulse jumping in his throat, and the sight made Prompto shiver. Slowly, he uncurled his arms from around Ignis and let the palms of his hands cup either side of Ignis’ neck.

Somewhere deep down Prompto felt vaguely embarrassed as he met Ignis’ warm, green gaze directly. He wasn't good at flirting on purpose, at teasing someone the same way Ignis teased him. Most of the time he just  _ said _ things, blurting whatever came to mind before he could think about it. He tried not to think about that, instead just  _ looking _ at Ignis, letting himself openly admire the other man. 

Not for the first time, he thought that Ignis was just  _ too _ good looking. Like a model.  _ Too good for me, _ he thought, but he ignored the little whispering voice for once. Ignis had just as much told him that that wasn’t true, that he wanted to be with Prompto.  _ He wants me all to himself.  _

There were a couple little moles on Ignis face, or beauty marks as Prompto’s mother called them. Some faint acne scars marked his cheeks, but they didn't detract anything from Ignis’ attractiveness, nor did his slight, adorable overbite, or the lovely bump in the bridge of his nose. All of that just came together with his high cheekbones, fine brow, the delicate shape of his lips, and a jawline that could cut glass. Frankly, Ignis one of the most gorgeous men Prompto had ever seen. 

“You're so handsome, Iggy,” he whispered, and he couldn't even blush this time because his words were completely inadequate to what he thought and felt. He let his thumbs smooth over Ignis’ jaw, and at least felt a little surge of satisfaction when a fine, pink flush crept up Ignis’ neck and onto his face. What he'd wanted was to tease Ignis a little more, but instead his compliment had been fiercely sincere.  _ Oh well, still worked.  _

Maybe he was just too impatient for deliberate teasing. He leaned back in and kissed the mole near Ignis’ chin, then brought their mouths together again. Now, at least, Ignis seemed content to let Prompto control the kiss.  Prompto eagerly took advantage of the easy way Ignis parted his lips, licking into Ignis’ mouth and moaning softly. Prompto could feel a tremor run through the body below him at the sound, so he moaned again, more loudly. In response to that, Ignis’ breath rushed out through his nose and he gripped Prompto’s hips and tried to crush their bodies together. 

The action made Prompto feel a little overwhelmed, but in the best way. His heart was thudding behind his ribs, and he could feel Ignis’ pulse racing in his throat. More, Prompto thought. He slid a hand down, slipping it inside the open V of Ignis’ shirt, savoring the heat of his skin. Their tongues twined together, hot and wet and hungry. Prompto shifted, trying to get even closer, though there was no space left between them. Then he felt something hard pressing against his thigh, and he and Ignis broke apart with twin gasps.

Panting, Prompto sat back just enough to look Ignis in the eye--or he tried to. Ignis was pointedly looking at a spot somewhere around Prompto’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath. “I-I apologize, Prompto, I…” His breath caught, and Prompto could hear him swallowing. Was Ignis... _ stuttering?  _ Was he actually blushing, red as a beet? 

Slowly, Prompto felt a realization come to him, and snorted helplessly. “Iggy!” he laughed, “Oh my gods, Iggy!” Ignis’ sat up straight and gave him a dark look, but it only made Prompto giggle harder. Ignis had gotten so worked up and aroused he'd gotten hard, and he was absolutely  _ mortified. _ Prompto couldn't believe it. 

“I'm glad you're so amused,” Ignis said, and his indignant grumble only set Prompto off again. Wheezing, Prompto wrapped his arms tight around Ignis’ shoulders again, and buried his face against Ignis’ neck. 

“I'm sorry,” Prompto snickered, voice muffled. “I'm sorry, Iggy, I just--I've just never seen you so red! I didn't think you could get  _ that _ embarrassed.” 

He felt Ignis huff a breath beneath him. It seemed like his  _ problem _ had gone away, at least.  _ Oh gods, don't start laughing again. _ To keep himself in check, Prompto pressed several apologetic kisses to the side of Ignis’ neck and jaw. “I'm sorry,” he said again, more calmly. 

“You ought to be,” Ignis said, but there was no heat behind it. “You  _ are _ the responsible party.”

“For giving you a boner?” Prompto asked with another snort as he sat up again.

“Don't be crass,” Ignis scolded, wrinkling his nose at the term. Then he sighed, and wrapped his arms around Prompto’s back. “We did get a bit carried away, didn't we?”

“Well, we don't have to stop,” Prompto said, going for a suggestive tone, but he was still grinning too hard to pull it off. Prompto wished he'd been straddling Ignis instead of sitting on his lap; he hadn't exactly been unaffected, but Ignis’ bashful reaction had sort of killed the mood, no matter how cute. 

Ignis gave him a wry look. “You are truly shameless,” he murmured. The kiss he pressed to Prompto’s mouth was strictly chaste and purely affectionate. Then he tugged Prompto down against him again, and Prompto rested his head against Ignis’ broad shoulder, content to be held and listen to the rain drumming against the car.

“You're a really good kisser, though, ” Prompto said as he nuzzled against the side of Ignis’ neck. “I can't help it if you get me all worked up.”

“So it's my own fault, then?” Ignis mused. His arms tightened briefly, and his chin came to rest on the top of Prompto’s head. 

Prompto hummed, and pulled a hand free to toy with the charm on Ignis’ necklace. It had taken him a long time--years--to notice that it was a little metal skull, which was part of the general motif for the Prince of Lucis’ retinue. It seemed an odd accessory for Ignis to wear in his day to day routine, but Prompto liked the idea of the royal advisor wearing a skull necklace beneath his suit during some long-winded meeting. There was something rebellious about it.

Before he could conjure up any further thoughts of Iggy the Rebel, he felt Ignis’ chest heave with a sigh. The rain outside was letting up, the roar fading to a patter against the windshield. Ignis reached up to grasp Prompto’s hand, pulling it away from the necklace so he could kiss the tips of Prompto’s fingers. It was such a sweet gesture that Prompto could feel his heart swell. 

“I should take you home,” Ignis said softly, strains of reluctance in his voice. 

Prompto groaned in protest. “But it's still so early,” he said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. Only eight-ten. Prompto hadn't been home that early by choice since he was fourteen. 

Ignis was quiet for a moment, so Prompto sat up and looked at him. “What would you suggest, then? And no, nothing lascivious, thank you.”

Wicked grin slipping into a pout, Prompto drummed the fingers of his free hand against the back of Ignis’ neck. “How about we go see a movie or something?” Prompto hadn't been to the movies all summer, which was disappointing considering he usually went to the movies with Noct once a week. But a movie date was something normal he and Ignis could do, and no one would be paying attention to  _ them _ when there was a giant screen to stare at.

“That sounds ideal,” Ignis said with one of his almost imperceptible smiles. 

Pleased, Prompto squirmed off of Ignis’ lap and back into his own seat. “Oh! Wait!” he gasped as Ignis began backing out of the parking spot.

“What?” Ignis asked with some alarm, slamming on the brakes and jarring them against their seatbelts.

“We forgot to get taffy! We gotta get some to sneak into the movie!” Prompto insisted, his tone urgent. 

“Oh for gods’--don't shout like that while I'm driving unless it's an emergency,” Ignis said, gripping the steering wheel as he took a calming breath.

“Ignis, if making sure we have outside candy to sneak into a movie isn't an emergency, then I don't know what is,” Prompto said gravely. 

“No, you're right, what was I thinking,” Ignis agreed, tone flat and dry. But he did stop long enough to buy enough taffy to last Prompto an entire week, so he knew Ignis wasn't truly upset with him.  
  
He was relieved, he realized as they left the marina behind. Not just to know how Ignis felt about him, but to know that he could talk to Ignis, could probably ask him anything without Ignis taking offense. They didn’t need to flounder around wondering what the other was thinking, and he just hoped he could remember that the next time he let his insecurities get the better of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I promise I won't torment y'all for too much longer. Maybe. 
> 
> Also, maybe important announcement, I'm gonna change my username here soon. idk what I'm gonna change it too yet, but if you get an ao3 email from a mysterious person it might be your pal Marley. In fact, it'll probably have the name "Marley" in there somewhere.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, having a job sucks. For some reason people think I'm a good worker so they give me more work than I can handle and it makes me sad. Also, they make me train people, which I'm terrible at because I do not have the temperament to teach others. But anyway, that's how my life is going, and I'm sorry this took so long. I meant to have it up days ago but every time I sat down to edit I wanted to curl up into a ball and roll far, far away where no one would ever find me and I could eat pancakes all day and avoid my responsibilities. 
> 
> This was another chapter I didn't plan at all too lol. Enjoy!

After their date at the marina--and the subsequent makeout in Ignis’ car--Prompto found himself feeling increasingly lonely in a very particular way each night when he curled up by himself in bed. That first night, after Ignis dropped him off, he’d tossed and turned, but had been unable to calm his blood until he’d taken himself in hand and given himself the relief he’d needed. A part of him felt slightly guilty for it--he was starting to spend inordinate amounts of time in the shower remembering the feeling of Ignis’ mouth on his, and the way Ignis’ strong hands had gripped his hips. The fantasies became increasingly intense with each iteration, but still left him longing for the real thing. 

That being said, there wasn’t quite the flush of shame that he’d felt that day after training when he’d gotten so ridiculously turned on by Ignis. By his reasoning it was normal, wasn't it? When the guy you were dating was too gorgeous for this world and his kisses left you feeling weak and aching for more, how else was one supposed to react? 

At least Prompto knew that Ignis was equally affected by him, if his reaction to having Prompto in his lap was anything to go by. And taking it slow with each other really wasn't so bad in spite of Prompto’s desires. He and Ignis were still spending a lot more time together, and he loved getting to know Ignis better as a person rather than just as the enigmatic and serious figure he'd appeared to be for so long. Every time they were together he felt a bit calmer, and it wasn’t until they were apart again that the pining would hit him again. 

When he showed up for training the day after their impromptu date and found Ignis stretching in the practice yard, Prompto felt an interesting rush of both excitement and dread. Gladio was standing beside Ignis as the latter twisted to loosen the muscles in his arms and back.  _ Oh, shit, _ Prompto thought. He'd sort of forgotten that Ignis had mentioned making time to train with them that week. All Prompto could think of now as he watched Ignis sit on the ground, folding himself double to touch his toes, was that last time he had seen Ignis at work in the training yard, not to mention the activities of the previous night.  _ I'm definitely not gonna survive this.  _

He knew he was being melodramatic, but he’d never been so intensely attracted to anyone in his life. Watching Ignis fluidly slip through fighting stances was an exercise in torment. How was Prompto going to be able to spar with him without spontaneously liquefying into a puddle? It was with trepidation that he allowed Ignis to correct his stance several times that first day, only relaxing when he realized Ignis had no intention of trying to tease him there in that very public space. Indeed, Ignis’ hands on him were warm and firm and amazing, and maybe some of his touches lingered a bit longer than needed, but that was as far as it went. 

In hindsight, he realized he shouldn't have worried. Yes, Ignis was incredibly hot and obscenely bendable, but he was also unfailingly professional and he took his duty to Noct very seriously. That wasn't to say he was a hard-ass or anything, but he expected everyone to be as dedicated and focused as he himself was. Even Gladio found himself on the receiving end of a few calmly delivered criticisms when Ignis decided his form needed improvement. 

Unsurprisingly, Ignis was a competent and patient instructor. All three of them were subject to his careful scrutiny, but he also wasn’t above exploiting weaknesses during sparring matches. Prompto found himself catching on more quickly when Ignis slipped inside of his defenses and tapped him with a practice blade, or deftly swept his feet out from under him. That wasn't to say either that Gladio was a bad instructor, but where he tended to act more as a drill sergeant, barking out orders and critique in equal measure, Ignis coaxed Prompto along calmly with helpful advice and guiding hands. 

Actually sparring with Ignis was a different sort of concern altogether. Gladio was a brick shithouse, invulnerable to Prompto’s ineffective flailing no matter how hard he tried to make his hits count. Ignis, however, was built like a gymnast, his lithe frame not exactly delicate or anything, but Prompto was afraid of hurting him all the same. Again, he shouldn't have worried, because he couldn't manage to get close enough to Ignis to actually touch him. Ignis possessed inhuman speed and agility, and while he was much gentler than Gladio, Prompto still wound up getting knocked on his ass an awful lot.

Every time he wound up dropped to the mat, Ignis would help him to his feet with an apologetic sort of grin, then he’d explain to Prompto what he’d done wrong. Of course, he also did the same after observing Prompto getting his ass kicked across the room by Gladio, which was slightly embarrassing. He could only take solace from the fact that Ignis was never disdainful of his ineptitude, always tirelessly forgiving. 

“Gladio is a skilled warrior,” Ignis explained as he showed Prompto how to bring his limbs in closer when holding a defensive form, “But I believe he forgets that not all of us can bash about the battlefield the way he can.” They were training inside that day at Ignis’ behest--it was raining, and while that normally wouldn’t be a deterrent, he’d said he didn’t want to risk any of them getting sick so close to the conference. 

“He is kinda like a baby behemoth,” Prompto said, pulling a face, and was pleased to see Ignis’ lips twitch.

“I heard that,” Gladio said from only a short distance away, where he casually held a squirming and sputtering Noct in a headlock. Were it anyone but Gladio, Noct could have easily freed himself and warped away, which only made it funnier that he was trapped now. 

Ignoring all of them, Ignis tapped Prompto’s spine and he automatically stood up a little straighter. “You are a bit smaller in stature than our dear Gladiolus,” Ignis observed, tone mild.

“Yeah, a bit,” Prompto scoffed good-naturedly.    


Smiling now, Ignis circled to stand in front of Prompto, tapping the instep of Prompto’s foot with the toe of his boot. Obediently, Prompto scooted his foot to the side until Ignis was satisfied. 

“What I mean is that you have a lower center of gravity. Strength is generated in the hips, not the upper body as most people believe. The lower to the ground you are, the greater potential for strength you possess. Properly trained, you would have the advantage against a larger opponent,” Ignis explained.

“Yeah right,” Gladio snorted. Prompto was inclined to agree; he was faster than Gladio, but he doubted very much that he could ever take the big guy down. Also, listening to Ignis imply that Prompto had strong hips stirred immensely distracting mental images. 

“I think I'll stick to ranged weapons,” Prompto said with a grimace. Self-defense was one thing if someone happened to get close enough to hit him, but he knew he'd make a shitty brawler. He was perfectly happy to stay well out of the way, sniping Gladio in the ass with paint pellets from his practice gun. 

“As you wish,” Ignis sighed, but he continued to prod and correct Prompto throughout the next several hours. Nobody watching them would have suspected they were romantically entangled, Prompto thought. Which made it especially delightful every time he caught Gladio scrutinizing their interactions. 

“Oh, I wish you would just tell him,” Ignis said later when Prompto met him for lunch in the advisor’s office. Ignis had showered and changed into a suit, looking for all the world like he hadn't spent the morning sweating in the training hall. “You must know he's been onto us from the start.”

“Yeah, I know,” Prompto said, “but it's funnier this way.” Ignis rolled his eyes, but didn't argue further. Messing with Gladio was easy payback for all the times Prompto had gotten his butt kicked since he'd started his training. 

Over the next week they adapted to a new training regimen, and Prompto finally began to feel like they were truly forming a cohesive team. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed spending time with his friends, even if they were working rather than hanging out. Before all of this he'd felt a bit like a satellite orbiting around them, his friendship with Noct being the only thing that tied him into their group. Now he'd gotten to know both Ignis and Gladio better, and he didn't feel as much like the odd man out as he once had. 

His relationship with Ignis only cemented that feeling, though a part of him still whispered that he was in over his head, that he didn't belong and one day they would realize that, too.

Whenever he got to thinking that way, all he needed to do was find Ignis and get him alone long enough to steal a kiss. His boyfriend-- _his boyfriend,_ _Ignis, holy shit_ \--was always happy for the momentary reprieve before he was dragged away by some other important matter. Their touches in those moments were brief, but Prompto found them soothing, like a balm against his ever-jangling nerves.

“Something troubling you?” Ignis would ask after Prompto pulled him aside into an empty room or hidden corner. 

Prompto would shrug and reply, “I just missed you, is all.” Never mind that he saw Ignis every day and spent hours in his company. Being separated from him made Prompto’s chest ache with longing, and as much as he knew he was being ridiculous, he couldn't help it. He was falling for Ignis, had been in a free-fall for months now even, and was too far gone to care. 

They were all together on a Friday afternoon, working indoors for once, when Noct came up to Prompto from behind and grabbed his shoulders. “Tonight,” he said ominously in Prompto’s ear.

“What's tonight?” Prompto said without looking up from what he was doing. Noct wasn’t quite as stealthy as Ignis, and Prompto had heard the whisper of boots on the ground behind him. He had been too busy taking advantage of a lull in their actual training to bother looking over his shoulder. Practicing how to spin his practice gun around on the tip of his finger seemed like a good use of his free time, and so that was what he was doing, unabashedly trying to look cool. 

Gladio, meanwhile, was ten feet away, chugging casually from his water bottle while he not-so-subtly hit on a member of the kingsglaive who had stopped by to speak with Cor. The young woman was pretending to be unimpressed by Gladio’s nonchalant flexing, but Prompto could see the grin tucked away at the corners of her mouth.  _ And he rags on us for getting distracted. Hypocrite.  _

Noct grumbled and let go of his shoulders, seemingly disappointed that Prompto hadn't been startled by him. “I don't have any boring meetings to sleep through, and I'm tired of socializing so I thought we could have a night in,” he said. “We can play video games or watch scary movies or something.”

“Oh boy, my favorite,” Prompto said with a grimace, yelping as the practice gun flipped off of his finger and clattered to the floor. He snuck a glance at Ignis as he ducked to pick up the weapon, hoping his boyfriend hadn’t seen his fumble, but Ignis was distracted, throwing his very real daggers at targets across the room. “As long as there's no zombies, I'm in,” he said as he stood up, examining the training weapon for damage. 

What he’d been hoping for was a night alone with Ignis, but he did miss hanging out with Noct. Now that the conference was so close, the prince was nearly as busy as his advisor, and they hardly saw each other outside of training.  _ Besides, no matter how bad I have it, I can’t just keep Ignis all to myself, nice as that would be.  _ Or ditch his other friends just because he was in a relationship. 

“No zombies, got it,” Noct said with a small, pleased grin. 

“No zombies for what?” Gladio said as he strolled up to them. The poor glaive he'd been hitting on had disappeared, probably gone back to train in the kingsglaive arena. Prompto had never seen it, but according to Noct it was massive, and specially designed to train the glaives to use the king’s magic. 

“For movie night,” Noct said, eying Gladio warily. The Shield had a propensity for springing surprise attacks on them mid-conversation while they were training. Prompto still hadn't mastered the art of not shrieking in surprise when Gladio unexpectedly launched towards him. 

“Cool. I'll bring the beer,” Gladio said languidly, and then swung his practice sword into an attack stance. 

“Ew, no,” Prompto whined, taking an involuntary step back, “I'm not drinking that weird, micro-brew stuff again. Last time I spent half the night barfing my guts out, remember?”

“Not my fault you're a lightweight,” Gladio said with a good-natured shrug, “Now come on, form up.”

“I am not a lightweight!” Prompto objected, stalling for time. Ignis was walking over to them now, holding his glasses in one hand as he wiped his face with a towel. “Iggy, am I a lightweight?” he demanded, shooting his best puppy eyes at the advisor.

Ignis replaced his glasses and arched a single, fine brow at him. “In my experience? Yes.” He grinned at Prompto’s outraged expression. “But I will concede that you're a far more charming drunk than Gladio.”

Prompto felt his face burn as he remembered draping himself all over Ignis the last time he'd had occasion to drink. Gladio, for his part, seemed unbothered by the jibe, and was advancing on Noct and Prompto menacingly. 

“If we're sparring, then I'm on Iggy’s team!” Prompto announced, and tried to edge toward his boyfriend. Ignis made a decent human shield, and Prompto had learned that he could hide behind him and take potshots at Gladio while Ignis defended. 

“Sorry, Prompto, but I'm afraid I must take my leave for now. I need to attend to my administrative duties for the rest of the day,” Ignis said, and he did sound genuinely regretful. Prompto had to smother the urge to close the distance between them and kiss Ignis goodbye, but he couldn’t manage to disguise his own disappointment. 

“Oh. All right. See you at Noct’s tonight?” he added hopefully, certain that Ignis had overheard the invitation. The man seemed to notice everything, after all. 

“We’ll see,” Ignis told him. A flicker of his green gaze to the right was all the warning Prompto had to duck out of the way. Gladio had finally lost his patience, and his blunted sword edge stopped short of where it would have whacked against Prompto’s padded ribs. Prompto had managed to throw himself to the floor just in time to avoid earning a new bruise. 

“Cheater,” Gladio rumbled at an unapologetic Ignis. 

“Don't damage them too badly,” was all Ignis said in response before taking his leave. Prompto didn't even have an opportunity to pout after him, as he was too busy scrambling out of the way of Gladio’s next barrage. 

x

“Prom, I don't care what you like, you're not tainting a perfectly good bowl of popcorn with  _ wasabi _ powder,” Noct was saying as he pulled a microwaveable bag of popcorn out of the cabinet. 

“Dude, c’mon, you always use caramel and that hurts my teeth,” Prompto argued. They were standing in Noct’s kitchen, and they'd been arguing over snacks for a good fifteen minutes, voices raised to be heard over the music playing from Prompto’s phone. It was ridiculous, but Prompto was enjoying Noct’s looks of disgust and horror at his suggestions. 

“You're worse than Specs,” Noct grumbled as he tore open the plastic wrapper. “He's gonna show up with a bag of baby carrots or something to try and  _ poison _ me with.” 

“You're such a brat, y’know that?” Prompto laughed, plucking his phone up off of the counter as it began to belt out the dulcet tones of Freddie Mercury. “Just eat your fucking vegetables, you crybaby.” 

Noct made a face at him, like Prompto had suggested he drink sewer water. “Make me,” he said.

“You're gonna die,” Prompto sang at him to the tune of  _ Don’t Stop Me Now _ , grabbing for the packet of popcorn as Noct shoved past him to get to the microwave. “You need to eat vegetables to live, Noct. Haven’t you ever seen the food pyramid?” Noct rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer, and Prompto didn’t get a chance to goad him further. 

“Keep at it, Prompto, perhaps he'll actually listen to you,” Ignis’ voice said from the doorway. Prompto felt his heart leap in his chest, and he knew the grin that stretched across his face was completely lovesick if the disgusted noise Noct made was any indication. Undeterred by his friend's reaction, Prompto paused the music, then practically bounced over to Ignis to kiss him and take one of the bags he was carrying.

“You made it,” he said, his heart continuing its dance in his chest as Ignis smiled gently down at him.

“So I did,” he agreed. 

“How many people did you have to threaten to get away from the palace?” Noct asked.

“Not as many as you'd think,” Ignis answered with a wink at Prompto. Then he looked up and his expression darkened. “Noct, throw that in the rubbish, you are  _ not  _ having popcorn from the  _ microwave.” _ He said the word with such a distasteful inflection that Prompto couldn't help but laugh. 

Ignis, being Ignis, insisted on doing things the  _ right way, _ and the right way to make popcorn was on the stove top. From beneath the counter where Noct kept his neglected pots and pans, Ignis retrieved a special kettle made specifically for popping corn. Noct and Prompto watched, bemused, as Ignis grumbled about “dust” and “misuse” and set about the task of making an appropriate snack. Prompto offered to help but was gently shooed back, so instead he leaned against the counter, out of the way, in case Ignis changed his mind. 

“Your boyfriend is a control freak, I hope you know,” Noct grumbled as he dug in the fridge for a soda. 

Prompto went warm all over, and noticed Ignis had gone slightly pink in the face, though the advisor artfully ignored Noct’s attempt to bait him. 

“That's ok,” Prompto said, feeling an evil little urge to tease them both. “I kinda like beign with someone who’s not afraid to take charge,” he said as he waggled his eyebrows. He was inordinately proud of himself for that one, given Ignis’ admonitory look and the way Noct feigned gagging.

“Prompto!” Ignis said sharply, blushing bright red like he had that day at the marina. 

Snickering, Prompto moved in close, winding an arm around Ignis and leaning up to press an apologetic kiss to his jaw.  _ Not really sorry, but he doesn't need to know that. _ “You're cute when you blush,” he murmured. 

Ignis sputtered briefly, and hurried to stir the rapidly popping pot so their popcorn wouldn't burn. “And you are incorrigible,” he huffed in reply. 

“Does that mean I'm cute? I don't remember my vocab lessons, Iggy,” Prompto said a bit carelessly. He thought it actually meant something like being unable to control himself, but he'd probably slept through that class in high school. 

Before Ignis could stop fussing long enough to answer, there was a noise in the hall. Prompto squeaked and pulled away from Ignis just as Gladio’s towering form filled the doorway. There was indeed a case of beer tucked under one tattooed arm, and his expression went from pleasantly neutral to vaguely exasperated when he saw Prompto’s poor attempt at acting natural. 

“Okay, I'm just gonna say it,” he said gruffly as he stepped into the kitchen and set the case on the counter. The space was larger than the kitchen at Prompto’s house, but still cramped with four grown men shouldering around each other. Prompto had to shrink back to allow Gladio’s bulk to fit in the room, which conveniently pressed him closer to Ignis. “You and Iggy have something going on. You've been pretty good at not making googly eyes at each other in front of me, but I'm not dense.”

“I don't--that's--,” Prompto stuttered, tossing a helpless look at an amused Noct.  _ Traitor, _ he thought, scowling. Obviously he wasn't getting any help from there. “I think you're imagining things, Gladio,” he finally managed with an imperious sniff. 

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Prompto,” Ignis sighed from behind him. A moment later warm hands were turning Prompto by the shoulders, and then cupping his face as Ignis leaned in and brought their mouths together.

“Aw, come on, I  _ eat _ in here,” Noct groaned as Prompto blushed furiously and Gladio gave an amused snort. The kiss was chaste, just the soft application of lips, but it still left Prompto feeling tingly and overheated. 

“There,” Ignis said, pulling back, looking satisfied that the matter had been put to rest. 

“Iggy,” Prompto whined softly as Ignis released him.

“Hush. I wasn't about to spend an entire evening needlessly refraining from touching you for the sake of your silly prank,” Ignis said, his tone reasonable. He turned back to the stove, switching the burner off under the popcorn kettle. 

“You're no fun,” Prompto sighed, but he was actually relieved now that Ignis mentioned it. Not being able to cuddle or hold hands all night would have been torture. He slipped both arms around Ignis’ middle, resting his chin on Ignis’ shoulder, hugging him from the side. 

A small smile formed on Ignis’ mouth. “Is that so?” he said. 

“Actually, no, that's a lie,” Prompto said with a grin, tightening his arms. “You're a lot of fun.”

“Are they usually this gross?” Gladio asked, though he still sounded entertained. 

“From what I can tell, ya,” Noct grumbled. Prompto found it was easy to ignore them both when Ignis’ free arm slipped around him, holding him close.

x  


Prompto and Noct spent twenty minutes sitting on the floor in his living room, arguing over what movie to watch first. Prompto preferred corny, B rated horror films of the Sharknado variety, but Noct liked suspenseful thrillers like Scream, or gory movies with lots of blood and guts. 

“C’mon, Prom. The effects aren't even that good in this movie, it's like thirty years old!” Noct insisted as he scrolled through the selection available for them to stream. 

“Noct, the word ‘bloodfest’ is in the title, I'm not interested in any of that,” Prompto retorted. He had already demolished half of his bowl of wasabi popcorn by that point-- _ thank you Iggy-- _ and they still couldn't agree on any of the titles Noct had considered. 

“You're gonna be hiding your face in your hands the whole time anyway, so what's the difference?” Gladio interjected. He was working on his second beer already, and looking annoyed by their indecision. 

“Prompto, just come sit by me,” Ignis said as he finally joined them. He had been in the kitchen still, making something to drink, which was just as involved a process as making popcorn had been, apparently. In one hand Ignis held a glass that was about a quarter of the way full with dark brown liquid, but in the other he held a taller glass full of a swirling pink concoction. “I thought you might like this,” he said with a knowing look as Prompto hopped up to accept the glass. 

“Why's he get the fancy drink?” Noct whined from where he still sat on the floor. He has his own glass balanced by his knee, a mix of Coke and alcohol he'd impatiently poured for himself. Ignis had asked Prompto what he would like, and Prompto had said, “Surprise me.” He was fairly confident that Ignis knew him well enough to make something he’d enjoy.

“Because he asked nicely,” Ignis said a bit archly as he took a seat on the couch and neatly crossed his legs. He patted the cushion next to him and Prompto settled into the spot, wedging himself close to Ignis’ side. 

Noct rolled his eyes, and stuffed a handful of popcorn from his own bowl into his mouth. “Whatever. I'm starting the movie now.” Prompto didn't bother arguing this time. They all knew Noct would probably be asleep by the end of it, anyway.  _ Then I can change it to a Disney movie, and maybe I’ll be drunk enough by then to sing along.  _ He took a sip of his own drink, and found it to be sweet without being too tart. There had to be alcohol in it, probably vodka since he could only taste a smooth fruitiness.  _ How  _ does  _ Iggy always know what I like, _ he wondered.    


Truth be told, he didn't mind the movie as much as he'd feared. It was bad--like,  _ really _ bad, but in a funny way. The effects probably would have been considered sub-par even by older standards, though he still cringed whenever there was a particularly bloody scene. Ignis did his best to hide a smile every time Prompto averted his gaze, or perhaps not his best since Prompto kept catching him at it.

“Stop smirking,” Prompto said finally, indignant, “I'm sorry I don't get off on gore like the rest of you freaks.”

“I don't mean to make fun,” Ignis whispered, taking a sip from his glass in another poor attempt to hide his grin. “I'm just enjoying your reactions.”

“You're a mean boyfriend, y’know that?” Prompto told him. He reached for Ignis’ glass in retaliation, and instead of pulling it away Ignis let him take it.

“You won't like it,” Ignis warned, but Prompto took a sip anyway, and immediately regretted it.

“Eugh, Iggy!” he wheezed as the liquid burned its way down his throat. 

“Are you two gonna flirt through the whole movie?” Noct asked irritably without turning around. He grabbed the TV remote and jabbed at the volume control in an effort to drown them out. 

Neither of them paid him any mind. “I told you,” Ignis said, prying the glass back from Prompto’s hand. They were close enough that he barely needed to raise his voice to be heard. 

“That was terrible. Gladio’s skunky beer is better than that,” Prompto said, keeping his voice low, and he drained the rest of his own glass to rinse his mouth out. 

Shrugging the shoulder Prompto was leaning against, Ignis only said, “It's an acquired taste.” It had to be scotch, or bourbon, or something else only old men who smoked cigars in front of a roaring fireplace would drink. Weirdly enough, it seemed to suit Ignis. Not because he was anything like a stuffy old guy, but because he always strove to be so dignified and respectable, as well as thoughtful and kind.

With a sigh, Prompto rested his head on Ignis’ shoulder, partly tucked beneath his chin. A warm, elegant hand wove its way into his hair a moment later, and he sighed again, eyes fluttering shut, as Ignis’ fingers stroked against his scalp. 

To think of all the times they had done this before, when Prompto had only been Noct’s friend from school. He'd been a little shy of Ignis and Gladio as a teenager, which seemed silly in the here and now. For one thing, he was dating Ignis, the man he'd once thought to be distant and intimidating. That was all a front, he knew now. Ignis was only cold because he had to appear that way. When it was just them, and there were no meetings to go to, no politicians lurking nearby, then he could let his guard down and just be Iggy, rather than Royal Advisor Scientia.

The more he thought about it all, the more unlikely it felt that things had somehow worked out this way. If Ignis hadn't seen Prompto running up to the roof to take pictures on that evening months ago, if Prompto hadn't somehow gotten on the same train car as Ignis that one morning and taken his picture--there were so many coincidences that had led to this moment, and he could scarcely believe his luck. Was that what fate was? Or was this all just some amazing accident?

“Iggy, what'd you put in my drink?” Prompto mumbled, nuzzling closer to the solid warmth against his cheek. 

“Why?” Ignis asked, sounding mildly worried, “Do you feel ill?”

“Nah, my brain is just gettin’ all philosophical, or whatever,” Prompto murmured, feeling like his bones were going noodly under the ministrations of the fingers in his hair. 

“Oh my,” Ignis hummed a soft laugh. Prompto heard a snort of laughter from Noct and Gladio and opened his eyes just in time to see what was clearly a prop mannequin get chopped in half on screen, the “body” spurting what had to be gallons of fake blood, more than any human actually had in their body.

“Augh, gross,” he groaned, and turned his face into Ignis’ shoulder. 

“Dude, come on, that blood looks like Pepto Bismol, it's not even realistic,” Noct said, a laugh in his voice. Prompto stuck his leg out without looking until he felt Noct’s shoulder, and shoved the prince with his foot.

“I hate Pepto Bismol, it turns my tongue brown,” he said. He felt the brush of lips against his hairline and turned his head up to blink at Ignis. “What was that for?” he asked, smiling at the soft look on his boyfriend's face.

“I just missed this,” Ignis said, too low for the others to hear. “All of us together, I mean. It's been a rare occurrence of late.”

“Mmm,” Prompto hummed, chin propped on Ignis’ shoulder. “I feel that.” Aside from that night at the bar, they'd only gotten together half-a-dozen times within the last few months. “It's nice, though. Now that I'm really one of you guys.” He hadn't meant to say it, but he was comfortable and muzzy-headed and Ignis really made a good mixed drink. 

“Prompto,” Ignis said, his tone taking on a serious edge that pulled Prompto’s attention, “You have  _ always  _ been one of us.” 

“But I wasn't a Crownsguard,” Prompto said mildly. “I barely knew you and Gladio.”

“But you were Noct’s friend,” Ignis said, shifting so he could wrap both arms around Prompto. “You look after him in your own way, and that means quite a lot to him  _ and _ to us, because you do so without guile, because you want to. You have  _ always _ been one of us,” he repeated, his tone deliberate. 

This hardly seemed like the type of conversation to be having with his boyfriend while their other two friends were less than five feet away and a shitty horror movie was playing in the background. Prompto had put his foot in his mouth, though, he supposed. He hadn't thought Ignis would take him so seriously or personally in this. 

“Noct and Gladio would say the same, if you would like to ask them,” Ignis said, and for a wild moment of panic Prompto thought that Ignis was really going to make him do so. 

“No!” Prompto yelped, and Noct hissed at him to shut up. A hot wash of embarrassment went through Prompto at just the thought of making himself so vulnerable in front of all three of his friends at once. Maybe one at a time, alone, but not all together with three sets of eyes focused on him.  _ I'd die, _ he thought. 

“I was kidding, darling,” Ignis said with a hint of a wry smile. “You don't need to be so leery of asking them, though.” 

The endearment made Prompto feel a surge of a different kind of warmth. How did Ignis always know what to say to send Prompto reeling? All Prompto could do was lean up to kiss him. From somewhere nearby, Noct booed at them, loudly. 

x

Without meaning to, Prompto fell asleep tucked up under Ignis’ arm. Normally he wouldn't have been able to with all the phony screaming from the movie, and Noct’s and Gladio’s occasional barks of laughter, but he was so  _ relaxed. _

Maybe it was the booze that made him feel loose and comfy enough to doze off, or maybe it was just the toasty warmth of Ignis’ body. He couldn't tell, and didn't really care. All he knew was that sometime later he was being gently shaken back to consciousness. With a disgruntled huff, he tried to curl further into the source of heat beside him, only to have it lift him and shift away.

“Iggy,” he grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his itching eyes. Falling asleep with his contacts in was never a good idea, but he did it all the time. The room around them was dark except for the glow of the television. Noct was leaning with his back against the sofa near Prompto, his legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded over his chest, head bent down. 

Noct was a master of keeping himself propped up in his sleep, a skill he had perfected in high school so he could nap during class without drawing undue attention. Ignis had gotten up from the couch, and bent to shake the prince awake in order to send him off to bed. 

Gladio was still awake, though the movie had ended at some point. He was playing with his phone, probably texting, his face unreadable. He stood abruptly, stretching his arms over his head, and yawned as he said, “Well, I oughta be heading out--”

“You are not driving, Gladiolus. You drank half a six pack on your own,” Ignis interjected. He didn't seem to be having any luck waking Noct.

“I'm fine to dr--”

“I cannot stop you, but I  _ will  _ tell Lady Iris if you attempt to drive yourself home on that death trap you insist on riding,” Ignis said, somehow managing to sound completely calm and threatening all at once. 

Gladio reacted with obvious chagrin at the thought of Ignis tattling on him to his little sister. “Fine,” he said gruffly, and pulled the keys to his motorcycle out of his pocket, dropping them into Ignis’ waiting hand. 

“None of us is driving,” Ignis said with a sigh. “Prompto, would you wake Noctis up?”

“Sure,” Prompto said. He put his finger in his mouth, getting it good and wet, then leaned down and stuck the digit into Noct’s unsuspecting ear. 

“Fuck, I'm awake! Ugh, gross Prom!” 

Prompto remained where he was for a moment, perched on the couch with his legs folded underneath him, as Noct got to his feet and Ignis began to tidy up. Where were they all going to sleep, he wondered? Normally Prompto would just share Noct’s bed--it was big enough for both of them, but there was also a spare bedroom. Gladio or Ignis would usually sleep in there, or on the couch. Would Ignis want to sleep in the same bed as him? Did they dare try? 

Noct answered both questions for him. “You and Iggy can have the spare bed. Just watch out, Specs--he's a cuddler and a blanket hog.” Prompto blushed. Noct had spoken so casually, in spite of his joking disgust over all of their displays of affection. Like he expected them to share a bed and was totally fine with it. Which of course he was. 

“I am  _ not _ a blanket hog,” he mumbled, climbing to his feet so that Gladio could have the couch. A hand grazed his back, and he felt a nervous little tingle in his stomach as he looked up at Ignis.    


“Are you comfortable with that?” Ignis asked him. “You can sleep in Noct’s room, if you prefer. I won't be offended.”

“No, I--it's fine, Iggy. I don't mind,” Prompto assured him, his tummy flipping in excitement at the prospect of getting to sleep next to Ignis. 

Ignis smiled, and Prompto knew it had been the right answer. They both wanted each other close. “Go on then,” Ignis said, nodding toward the short hallway Noct had disappeared down. “I'll be but a moment.”

“I can help--help clean up,” Prompto said through a yawn, and giggled sleepily when Ignis kissed him.

“Don't trouble yourself. Go get ready for bed,” Ignis insisted. 

Arguing with Ignis was futile, so Prompto relented. He felt heavy, too warm, his brain pleasantly fuzzy. Bedtime was calling out to him. 

Noct’s guest room was small and sparsely decorated. If it weren't for Ignis, Prompto thought the room would be totally empty and unused, but there was a bed, a nightstand, and a small dresser, and tasteful curtains covered the one window. 

When he entered the room, he paused for a moment, unsure. Did the bed seem smaller than usual? What if he elbowed Ignis in the face while they were sleeping? Prompto shook his head to clear it, and pointedly began to strip off his jeans. He was pretty sure he had left pajamas here at one point, and Noct wouldn't care if he borrowed something, but he decided to forgo all that. He could sleep in his t-shirt and boxers, like he usually did. Ignis wouldn't care, he thought. 

He was imagining what Ignis might wear to bed--maybe red silk jammies, with a little pointed nightcap--when he heard his phone buzz. It was still lodged in his pants pocket, and he wrestled a moment to free it.

**Mom:** Are you coming home tonight?

Oh, great. His mom must have the night off, and obviously he wasn't at the house. It was midnight, so of course she was checking in to make sure he was alive and well. For a guilty moment, he didn't know what to say. He was spending the night at Noct’s, but  _ with  _ Ignis. The former he had done plenty of times, but she still didn't know that he was dating somebody. 

**Prompto:** staying at Noct’s tonight, sorry  <3  
**Mom:** ok sweetie, be safe, love you  
**Prompto:** you too

Lying to his parents always made him feel terrible, even such a tiny lie of omission. They had always been so laid back with him, and he hardly ever got into any serious trouble. Maybe that was why he just wasn't any good with lies; he'd never had a reason to learn.

There was a knock on the door, and then Ignis let himself in. Prompto felt awkward for a moment, just standing there without any pants on with his phone held up to his face.    


“Is everything all right?” Ignis asked, hesitating in the doorway for a moment. 

“Oh, yeah. Just saying goodnight to my mom,” Prompto said, feeling a little silly. 

Smiling, Ignis stepped into the room and shut the door. Prompto couldn't help but return the smile as Ignis came over to him and kissed him on the temple. 

“You're very close with your parents?” Ignis asked, stepping back, one hand resting on Prompto’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, “We don't get to spend that much time together, but they like me to check in so they know I'm not lying in a ditch somewhere.”

Ignis made a noise of amusement and let go of Prompto, who immediately missed the warmth of his hand. Then he felt a different sort of warmth as he watched Ignis reach up and begin to unbutton his own shirt.

“That does seem prudent on their part,” Ignis said, deft fingers making quick work of said buttons.  _ Holy shit, _ Prompto thought, catching a peek of bare skin as the flaps of Ignis’ shirt parted. Was he going to sleep without a shirt on? _ I can't take this. But I can't look away. Fuck, he's gorgeous. _ This had to be some sort of punishment for a wrong Prompto couldn't remember committing. He could behold Ignis’ beauty but he couldn't do anything about it. 

“You're making me blush again, my dear,” Ignis said, and Prompto started, then abruptly dropped his gaze as Ignis shrugged his shirt off. He caught a glimpse of a toned, beautiful chest and stomach, and fuck he was going to be thinking about  _ that _ uncontrollably for the next few days.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“No, I should apologize. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable,” Ignis said. Prompto didn't know how to reply to that. He wasn't uncomfortable with shirtless Ignis, at least not in the way Ignis was probably thinking. _ I wanna lick every inch of your skin is what the problem is, because you're so fucking hot and all.  _

Much to his relief, Ignis retrieved a plain white undershirt from the dresser and quickly pulled it on. Then he began to remove his pants, and Prompto had to turn grab for his camera bag, dropped onto the mattress, to have an excuse not to share. He dug in one of the side pockets and retrieved the lens case for his contacts. They were the disposable kind that lasted a few weeks before they were no good anymore, though Prompto wasn't sure if that was preferable to the daily disposable ones. 

He'd been wearing contacts since he was thirteen, so it barely took any conscious thought for him to pop the lenses out and back into their case. When he looked up, he saw Ignis was watching him with interest.

“I didn't realize you wore contact lenses,” he said, sounding intrigued.

“You didn't?” Prompto asked, blinking up at Ignis’ now-blurry countenance. “And here I thought you noticed everything.”

Ignis gave him a crooked smile, and held a finger up to his lips in a shushing gesture. “Only  _ mostly _ everything,” he said. The conspiratorial tone, and the fact that he was wearing only a thin t-shirt and very snug boxer briefs was almost too much for Prompto to behold. 

Once again, he tore his gaze away and scrambled onto the bed.  _ I wish I could look at my boyfriend without getting outrageously horny. What is my life anymore?  _ He tugged back the comforter so he could crawl underneath it, huddling down underneath the cool fabric. 

Ignis joined him only moments later, the bed creaking as it dipped. There was another little flutter of nerves in Prompto’s stomach as Ignis drew up close behind him. He looked over his shoulder and shifted to let Ignis’ arms slide around him. The added heat at his back was instantaneous, and simultaneously delicious and overwhelming. Everything that was Ignis washed over him, Ignis who was warm and smelling of spice and sage, his body a solid weight of lean muscle. Prompto felt safe caged by the circle of Ignis’ arms, even as something hot and needy bubbled up in his chest. 

“Iggy,” he whispered, turning in Ignis’ grasp, rolling until they were facing each other. The bedside lamp was still on, but Ignis had removed his glasses, leaving his face visible and unobstructed. He looked just as handsome like this, though less serious, like without the glasses and the pressed suits he was  _ just _ Ignis, free of titles and responsibilities.

There was a knowing look in his eyes, glittering green even in shadow. “Can I help you with something?” he asked innocently, as if he couldn't tell what Prompto was thinking. 

Without preamble, Prompto surged forward to kiss him, slotting their mouths together and arching himself against Ignis’ body. A soft, eager noise rolled through Ignis’ chest, and Prompto could  _ feel _ it, could feel Ignis’ heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed through his nose. It was intoxicating, lying in bed, chest to chest, wrapped together in the thick warmth of the bedsheets, sharing body heat and breathing in Ignis’ scent. 

Ignis tangled a hand in Prompto’s hair, rolled him onto his back, and Prompto whined with approval, opening his mouth for Ignis’ tongue. This was exactly what he wanted, this was  _ everything _ \--Ignis’ weight on top of him, tongues sliding together, bodies lined up almost perfectly. Prompto cupped Ignis’ face, tilting his head as he worked his mouth and jaw to deepen the kiss. It was so good, he was  _ drowning  _ in it, the slick heat of their mouths, the way Ignis shuddered when Prompto rolled his hips--

“Wait,” Ignis gasped, pulling back. Prompto heard himself growl, and tried to pull Ignis back down, tried to kiss him again. Their lips touched--he felt Ignis’ wry smile for a half-second before he pulled back again.

“Iggy,” he breathed, plaintive. The last thing Prompto wanted to do was stop now, but he let himself go limp beneath his boyfriend's weight. Every single nerve in Prompto’s body was electric with desire, but he submitted as Ignis stroked an apologetic hand into his hair.

“We shouldn't,” Ignis said, his voice low and tight. Prompto was gratified to see the lines of frustration in the other man's face, the open want, stymied by self-control--Ignis was just as affected as he was, but clearly had better restraint. “I doubt Noct would forgive us for having sex fifteen feet away from where he's trying to sleep. And we've both been drinking.”

Prompto licked his lips, considered trying to coax that restraint until it snapped, but instead he nodded reluctantly. He wouldn't--couldn't--press the issue if Ignis wasn't comfortable. 

“I want you, Iggy,” he whispered. “I can wait for as long as you need me to, but I want you.”

The words seemed to have some effect on Ignis, who had to close his eyes and take a deliberate breath. When he opened his eyes again they were dark and filled with heat and regret. “I feel the same,” he said, sounding particularly hoarse. Then he kissed Prompto again, once, and rolled so they were both on their sides, still facing one another. 

Sighing, Prompto shifted and tucked his face into Ignis’ neck. “Will you still hold me, at least?” he mumbled. He didn't think he could handle sleeping next to Ignis without touching him.

“Of course I will,” Ignis said, tightening his arms around Prompto’s smaller frame. “I'm sorry. I should have foreseen this being an issue.” 

“It's ok,” Prompto said, kissing the pulse point in Ignis’ neck.  _ At least I know you want me as bad as I want you. _ He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that out loud. Ignis didn't seem to like it when he said things like that, about doubting himself. Prompto didn't want to upset him just as they were getting ready to sleep. “You're still more fun to snuggle with than Noct. He always elbows me in my sleep.”

He felt, rather than heard, Ignis chuckling. “He doesn't mind it as much as he pretends,” Ignis said. “He doesn't have nightmares often anymore, but it always helps if someone else is there.”

“That's true,” Prompto said, feeling guilty for a moment. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Ignis kissed the top of Prompto’s head, and murmured, “He told me he's happy for us, you know. I was surprised that he brought it up himself, but he said he was glad we've found a bit of happiness in each other.”

That sounded sort of embellished to Prompto, who knew how Noct was about sharing emotions. But he also knew that Noct  _ was _ happy for them, so all he said in reply was, “Did he threaten to kick your ass, too?”

Another rumble of laughter. “He may have mentioned something to that effect, yes.”

“I guess you'll just have to be nice to me then,” Prompto said, speaking into the crook of Ignis’ neck. 

“I suppose I can manage that,” Ignis sighed, long-suffering, his breath ruffling Prompto’s hair. It was Prompto’s turn to giggle in his arms. 

They talked for a while more after that, until Prompto began to drift off, lulled by the gentle tones of Ignis’ voice. He felt Ignis shift away and grumbled in protest, then the light clicked off, and Ignis embraced him again. Prompto fell asleep just like that, caught up against the shelter of Ignis’ body. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before y'all go, please check out this sweet [fan art](http://flykiwiflyaway.tumblr.com/post/160495725469/another-scene-from-rule-of-thirds-by-dirtyhecker) flykiwiflyaway did for me that I forgot to mention last chapter because that's the kind of person I am. Thanks for all the awesome art, fam! <3<3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kinda went a little overboard with this chapter and it got really fuckin long. It should really be split into two chapters for the sake of flow, but I love you guys so. 
> 
> Enjoy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜

Darkness was only just giving way to grey pre-dawn light when Prompto was roused from sleep. He grumbled as the bed dipped and then irritably cracked open one eye, blearily tugging at the shifting covers. “Iggy,” he mumbled in protest as his boyfriend carefully extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and blankets.

“Hush,” came the response, whispered and affectionate. “Go back to sleep.” Prompto wasn't one to argue with that, and he let Ignis tuck him back into the cozy nest under the comforter. 

He felt lips on his temple and smiled, a teasing comment coming to mind, something about bedtime stories or lullabies. Before he could say anything he began to doze off again, his thoughts too thick and slow with sleep to give shape to any quips. The bed still smelled like Ignis, too, and he burrowed his head into the now empty space on the pillow before succumbing again to sleep. 

When he next woke up he knew it must be much later. Sunlight limned the edges of the curtain, and Prompto yawned and kicked the covers off, knowing he wouldn’t fall asleep again now that it was light out. The tantalizing scents of breakfast cooking filled the apartment too, further enticing him out of bed; Ignis’ doing, he knew. 

Although part of him wanted to stay in bed a while longer, just to laze and browse tumblr on his phone, Prompto forced himself to his feet and across the hall, into the bathroom. The mirror was still fogged at the edges with steam from the shower--Ignis was already halfway prepared for work,  _ and _ probably making breakfast for all of them. Prompto wondered, not for the first time, if the man had ever stopped and let himself be taken care of, or if anybody had ever thought to  _ really _ give him a break. 

_ We can hardly get him to relax anyway, _ Prompto thought. Even last night Ignis had taken charge and made snacks and drinks for them. He'd been the last one to sit down, and he'd been the one to tidy up before bed. When they got takeout or ate at a restaurant, Ignis insisted on going to pick up the food or paying for their meal. And he joked about it, making cracks about being kept in a cage, but he had never really complained outright. If he resented his lot in life he didn't show it, but Prompto still felt the unfairness of it all. 

Soon, somehow, he would have to do something for Ignis. He could cook, sort of. He'd be horrified if he tried to make dinner and burned it or accidentally dumped too much salt on the food, though. Maybe when he got paid again he could afford a real date. But he'd think of something. Ignis deserved to be taken care of, and he would have a night or a day off whether he liked it or not. Prompto would make sure of it. 

He entertained himself for a moment as he splashed water on his face, thinking of taking charge, of telling Ignis he wasn't allowed to lift a finger.  _ Even if I have to tie him up, _ he thought, smirking at himself in the mirror. But that mental image threatened to lead to other, naughtier thoughts that were better left explored when Prompto was home alone. He grabbed for a towel to dry his face, and quickly left the bathroom as he tamped down the mental images. 

Ignis was in the kitchen, standing over the stove, which was exactly where Prompto had known he would be. Stifling another yawn, Prompto hobbled into the kitchen and over to Ignis. Without a word, he hugged Ignis from behind, draping arms around his boyfriend's waist and resting his head sleepily between strong shoulder blades. 

“Mornin’,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” Ignis replied, far more awake than Prompto was, and chipper to boot. 

“You didn't have to make breakfast,” Prompto said, closing his eyes as he momentarily rested his full weight against Ignis’ body. He rather enjoyed feeling the ripple of muscle beneath his hands and against his chest. Unbidden, the memory of shirtless Ignis rose in his mind, and he held onto it for a moment before opening his eyes again.

“I wanted to,” Ignis replied. “Honestly, I thought you might stay abed a bit longer. I was going to bring you your breakfast and perhaps feed you. It would have been terribly romantic.” He sighed dramatically, put out, and Prompto huffed a laugh. 

“I could get back in bed if it'd make you feel better,” he said, rubbing his cheek against the rumpled fabric of Ignis’ shirt.

“No, it's too late. You've ruined the surprise,” Ignis said, feigning accusation and disappointment. 

Grinning, Prompto pushed up on his toes so he could kiss Ignis’ cheek, the awkward angle requiring him to stretch a bit to reach. He was gratified to see that little smile playing at the corner of Ignis’ mouth, the one that Prompto was certain was just for him. 

A surge of warmth expanded his chest--affection, he knew that, but it was so clear and strong that he had to force himself to unlock his arms from his boyfriend and step back so Ignis could work. 

At a bit of a loss, he hopped up to sit on the counter to just  _ watch.  _ Ignis was so ridiculously good-looking that Prompto thought it would be fascinating to watch the man do literally anything, and making breakfast was no exception. There was something baking in the oven that smelled amazing, but Ignis believed in a balanced breakfast, so he was making eggs and bacon as well, and slicing fresh fruit. A cup of coffee sat on the counter that he would stop to sip from every now and then. Prompto stole a sip, too, and Ignis gave him a look that was so hilariously appalled that Prompto burst out laughing.    


“Can you two pipe down?” Gladio’s voice called out from across the hall, rougher than normal with sleep. Prompto clapped a hand over his mouth as he continued to chortle, and Ignis rolled his eyes.  _ Poor Gladio,  _ Prompto thought. Sleeping on the couch would have been no treat for the big guy, who couldn't even have stretched his legs out.

Prompto wasn't discouraged, though. He was getting hungrier by the second, so he tried for a piece of fruit, only to have Ignis snag his hand, lightning fast. “Patience, darling,” he said with a mildly admonitory tone. 

Heart skipping a beat at the endearment, Prompto jutted his lower lip out. “C’mon, Iggy! I'm starving!” Normally Prompto would have eaten by now and been out of the house. It was Saturday, though, and he didn't have training on Saturdays. Ignis, on the other hand, should have been at his desk by now. 

“You most certainly are not,” Ignis said, and he squeezed Prompto’s hand, then very deliberately moved it away from the fruit before releasing him. 

“Aren't you gonna be late for work?” Prompto asked, a diversionary tactic. 

“The Citadel can manage without me for an hour or two while I attend to His Highness,” Ignis explained. Then he added, with a pleased little smirk, “And to my boyfriend.”

Another swell of emotion, this one even more powerful, flooded Prompto from head to toe, burning in his chest. Ignis was doing all of this for  _ him,  _ when it came down to it. Noct wouldn't get out of bed this early even if the building was on fire. 

Ignis made a noise of surprise when Prompto jumped off the counter and threw himself into the taller man's arms. When Prompto tugged him down for a kiss, though, he went willingly. Maybe it was silly to get so worked up just because his boyfriend was making him breakfast, but the hot, bursting sensations in Prompto’s chest couldn't be dissuaded by logic. He slid his tongue past Ignis’ grinning lips, tasting coffee.  _ I'd never need another cup of coffee again in my life if I could kiss him like this every morning.  _ Ignis was godsdamned intoxicating, and Prompto didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough of the man. 

Ignis had just grabbed Prompto’s waist to drag him closer when they heard a yawning voice behind them. “Somethin’s burnin’,” Gladio informed them as he shuffled into the kitchen, and they broke apart as Ignis gasped. 

Gladio seemed unperturbed by the fact that he'd walked in on them full-on sucking face at seven in the morning. Ignis, too, was more concerned with saving his crepes from the oven than with being sheepish, but Prompto was left feeling slightly miffed. He was even more annoyed when Gladio leaned a hip on the counter, coffee mug in hand, and gave Prompto a lecherous grin. 

“So. You two sleep well?” Prompto felt himself blush so hard that he was sure the room temperature went up a degree or two. 

“Yes, very well,” Ignis replied without missing a beat, as if he didn't know what Gladio was implying. The pink on his cheeks as he set the pan of crepes on the stove top belied his tone, however.

“I'll bet,” Gladio grunted, still smirking like he knew some dirty secret. He reached for the pan on the stove, then jerked it back with a hiss as Ignis rapped the back of his knuckles with a metal spatula. 

“You'll burn your fingers, Gladiolus,” Ignis said coolly. 

“It'd serve him right for perving on us like a creep,” Prompto muttered. He tried to shove Gladio out of the way so he could get to the coffee pot, but the Shield didn't budge. 

“I was just kidding,” Gladio snorted. “Mr. Chivalry here wouldn't fuck someone in Noct’s apartment.”

“Gladio!” Ignis spat in reprimand. 

“Because he's not a gross exhibitionist like you, you mean?” Prompto shot back. 

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion, Prom,” Gladio replied, unruffled.

“Oh please, dude, just ‘cause me and Iggy don't send our friends post-sex selfies with our one-night-stands--!” 

Gladio actually laughed aloud at that and clapped Prompto on the back, cutting him off. “That's because neither of you has ever had one!”

Indignant, Prompto puffed himself up. He had had a one-night-stand or two, but he wasn't as proud of that as Gladio, apparently. So all he did was fold his arms over his chest as he said, “You don't know my life.” 

Gladio only continued to chuckle to himself, clearly not believing Prompto. 

“That is quite enough of  _ that _ discussion,” Ignis said, stilted. Prompto felt a wriggle of worry in his belly, and shot an unconcerned Gladio another dirty look. Until that moment Prompto hadn't really been annoyed with the teasing--Gladio was always prepared with a ready supply of bawdy humor. Most of the time Prompto was the only one of their friends who was crass enough to engage him. Noct and Ignis were far less inclined toward making blatant dick jokes--or laughing at them for that matter. 

Gladio finally relinquished his position and left the kitchen, still looking amused. The coffee machine was free now, but Prompto watched Ignis with that little seed of worry still planted in his stomach. Had they made him uncomfortable somehow? Ignis usually just rolled his eyes at dirty jokes. Maybe he just didn’t like the prospect of hearing about Prompto’s past relationships. 

Ignis was serving food out onto plates, and his back looked unusually straight and stiff. Fuck, just say something. 

“Hey Iggy, I’m sorry about that, I didn’t meant to make you uncomfortable. I won’t--,”

Ignis turned and gave him a startled look, and Prompto stopped mid-sentence. “Whatever are you apologizing for?”

“We--you don’t like that kinda talk, and I know you probably don’t wanna hear about me having one night stands or whatever, and--,” he cut himself off again as Ignis put a hand on his shoulder.

“Gladiolus was trying to get a rise out of us, Prompto. Don’t put much stock into it,” Ignis said. Then he leaned down and kissed Prompto lightly on the lips. “And I promise I don’t begrudge you your past,” he said as he straightened. 

“Oh! Yeah, me too. I mean, I don’t begrudge you, or whatever.” Ignis’ lips twitched, and he thumbed Prompto’s chin affectionately before turning back to the stove. 

“Thank you, darling. Could you try waking Noct for me? I doubt he’ll get up, but I feel obligated to try.” 

“You mean _ I’ll  _ try,” Prompto said with a grimace. “I’ll give it a shot, but if he summons a sword and stabs me it’ll be your fault.”

“Noted,” Ignis said dryly. 

X

Prompto had a spring in his step as he exited the elevator near Ignis’ office. He was always excited to see his boyfriend after a long day, but today in particular he had an actual reason to visit Ignis--other than to kiss him and be a nuisance.  _ A fun nuisance. _ They hadn't had a chance to speak all day, which was a bummer, but also sort of worked out perfectly. Prompto had finally thought of the perfect date that he could actually afford, and he'd spent the entire day silently rehearsing how he was going to tell Ignis. It was going to be silly, probably, but that would mean Ignis might laugh and Prompto wanted to make his boyfriend laugh as much as humanly possible.

The door to Ignis’ office was wide open, and Prompto skipped the last few steps, bouncing into the doorway wearing a big grin.  _ Aaand he's not in here.  _ Prompto twisted his mouth to the side and gave a mental shrug. He'd just wait inside, and hopefully Ignis would be back soon. An idea popped into Prompto’s head, and his grin came back. Ignis had a high-backed office chair, likely an expensive one with lumbar support and memory foam seating or something.  _ I'm gonna sit in it with my back to the door. Then I can do a supervillain reveal spin-around when he comes back. _ If he came back. Ignis could be in a meeting, or off running errands, and might not be back for hours. 

Well, if he didn't show up within a half hour or so then Prompto would slink home in a fit of dejection. Or at least that was what he would say when he called Ignis later to pout at him over the phone. He was sure Ignis would just teasingly scold him for his theatrics. 

Prompto took a few steps into the office, pausing as he reached the desk. Everything was as tidy as usual, almost in a retentive manner. Papers were stacked neatly in a pair of incoming/outgoing boxes, there was a plain black cup full of matching pens, and a cup of coffee was cooling near the computer monitor. The only thing that seemed out of place was the notebook sitting in the center of the desk. Open. 

_ Don't you dare do what you're thinking of doing, _ Prompto told himself sternly. But it was too late--he really didn't mean to, honestly. His eyes just skimmed casually across the page as he circled the desk and desperately tried not to snoop, and he caught a time and date, and Noct’s name. Wait. 

It was just a...a date book? There were other notes on the page, written in a shorthand he couldn't entirely decipher. A pen sat in the crease to hold the notebook open, and Prompto let his curiosity get the better of him. Leaving the pen in place, he flipped through a few pages. More scheduling, more reminders. Ignis used different colored pens to denote importance of each entry, and everything was written in his neat, flowing hand. 

_ I wish I was this organized, _ Prompto thought, smiling to himself. He had tried using a planner in high school but he'd given up after losing the third one. Anything he'd needed to remember he'd just written on his hand. He was pretty sure he'd gotten a lecture from Ignis about that once. The memory made his smile widen. 

Why would Ignis be so secretive about his day planner, though? That night at the bar--was it really only a few weeks ago?--Ignis had been annoyed when Prompto had tried to peek at what he was writing.  _ Unless I was so drunk I’m remembering it wrong, which is entirely possible.  _ Prompto found a date for an appointment with Noct’s doctor, but Noct wasn’t shy when complaining about how annoying it was to have to get his childhood injury checked out every so often. He wouldn’t care if Prompto knew he had a doctor’s appointment. There were time tables drawn up by hand of back-to-back meetings with people whose names Prompt should probably have known, notes to remind Noct of various things he needed to get done, like paperwork or fittings for new clothes. He saw similar reminders for Gladio, and even some for Gladio’s little sister, Iris. 

A little frown creased Prompto’s forehead as he flipped a few more pages ahead--Ignis’ days were packed even more tightly than he’d thought. There were more recent spaces blocked out for training than there were toward the front of the book, but aside from that Prompto only saw the rare blank spot. Most of those were times when Ignis had been with him, or when all four of them had been together. Prompto felt a little guilty as he took it all in--he felt like he had all the free time in the world compared to Ignis. 

His fingers caught on a sticky tab, and he sighed as he turned a stack of pages. As much as Ignis overworked himself, Prompto couldn’t help but be a little in awe of him. He wasn’t tireless, that much was obvious, but Ignis had a work ethic like nothing Prompto had ever seen.  _ And he still finds time to look after the rest of us, and take me out on the best dates. If it were me, I’d burn out in a week.  _

Prompto moved to set the notebook back to rights--he’d tell Ignis he looked at it, because Ignis would  _ know  _ even if Prompto used some kind of laser measurements to put everything back how he’d found it--but paused. He saw his name written at the top of the page he’d flipped to, the one marked with the little notation tab. 

_ -October 25th birthday - prefers to celebrate on Halloween, loves costume parties? _

_ -Favorite color green? Seems to change frequently.    
-Does not like to be the center of attention in spite of effusive behavior.  _

_ -Must ask if he will permit me to keep a few copies of his photographs, they are lovely.  _

_ -Prefers spicy foods - find appropriate recipes and inquire as to allergies (none) _

_ -Entomophobic and claustrophobic - avoid activities and areas that could trigger a phobic response.  _

_ -Shuts down when being yelled at or perceives that he is being yelled at or that someone is displeased with him.  _

_ -Chocobos _

Ignis...kept notes on him. On the things he liked, on the things he  _ might  _ like, possible medical conditions, even on things Prompto hadn’t realized Ignis even knew about. He traced his fingers over the lines detailing his fears, feeling a lump rise in his throat. He hadn’t seen any pages like this for Noct or Gladio. Ignis probably knew everything about them by now, though. 

“You know, it’s rude to snoop through other people’s personal belongings.” Prompto didn’t start at the sound of Ignis’ voice. He just looked up, tearing his eyes away from the notebook. There was more, but apparently no time to read it all now. Ignis stood in the doorway, and he didn’t look angry. Just...pensive, maybe? He stepped into the office, slowly shutting the door behind himself. When it clicked, that was when Prompto jumped, like he’d been snapped out of a trance.

“It was open,” Prompto said. He wasn’t really sure if he was talking about the door, or the journal. 

“Well, I suppose I didn’t think my naturally inquisitive boyfriend would go reading through it, or I might have taken better care not to leave it out,” Ignis said softly as he came closer. Did he sound nervous, or was that Prompto’s imagination? 

Prompto straightened, and stepped around the edge of the desk. Ignis watched carefully as Prompto moved toward him, his own steps uncertain.  _ He’s not mad at me for snooping in his book, but he...thinks I’m mad at him? _ It was strange seeing Ignis of all people look worried as Prompto got close enough to touch him, but the worry shifted into surprise when Prompto stepped in close and leaned up to kiss him. 

It wasn’t a lengthy kiss by any means, but Prompto poured as much enthusiasm and affection as he could into it, molding himself against Ignis and nibbling at his lower lip. “Mmm,” Ignis hummed against him, pulling away even as Prompto chased after his mouth. Blinking down at him, green eyes darkened slightly, Ignis looked a bit uncertain of himself. “You are not...upset with me?”

“What? No?” Prompto said, confused, “Why would I be? You noticed all that stuff about me, and you...you wrote it all down like a  _ geek _ , but...nobody does that. Not for me.” He ended in a mumble, staring at Ignis’ chest. He fussed with a button on Ignis’ shirt, then traced an invisible pattern on the fabric--a little, secret heart. 

“Surely Noct knows what you like,” Ignis said, placing his hand over Prompto’s, holding it where it was, pressed in a fist against Ignis’ chest.

“Yeah, because I told him. You wrote all that down because...you wanted to get to know me, right? You like to watch and learn.”

“Yes,” Ignis admitted softly, “It occurred me some months ago that I didn’t know nearly enough about who you were. All I knew was what I saw on the surface, and I knew that couldn’t stand. So I...began to pay more attention.” Prompto could take a guess as to when exactly Ignis had suddenly decided that he wanted to know everything about Prompto’s life. 

“That night on the roof,” Prompto said with a knowing little smile. 

Ignis actually looked embarrassed. “I thought it was a bit shameful, that I only cared to learn more about you once I realized my feelings went deeper than simple friendship.”    


“Iggy, that’s how relationships happen!” Prompto said, grinning broadly now. “You either already know everything about someone and realize you’re into them, or you realize you’re into someone and want to know everything about them.”

“I suppose. Though to be fair, it wasn’t all just observation,” Ignis said, “You did tell me some of those things.” Prompto shook his head. Maybe some of it, yes, but Ignis had made note of things Prompto didn’t often talk about. He knew about Prompto’s phobias and had written a reminder not to trigger them. Nobody had ever... _ nobody _ did things like that for him. 

Prompto surged up to kiss Ignis again, needier this time, more urgent. He cupped his hand against the back of Ignis’ head with one hand, and fisted the fine fabric of his shirt with the other. Even though he didn’t really need to he stood on his toes for better leverage, and he licked against Ignis’ lips, moaning softly when he felt the other man shiver against him. Ignis’ had a hand resting on Prompto’s jaw, and one on his waist, holding him close. He opened his mouth after a few more goading swipes of Prompto’s tongue, and they both groaned into the kiss. 

Then Ignis was pulling back, and Prompto felt a moment of alarm, but Ignis didn’t let go of him, not yet. For a moment they just looked at each other, panting slightly, and Prompto saw that Ignis’ was trying to compose himself. 

Finally, after a minute of this, Ignis blew out a soft breath, and said, “Have I ever shown you my rooms here at the palace?”

x

Ignis’ rooms at the Citadel were more like their own small apartment than a simple bedroom. Prompto wasn’t surprised; Noct’s old quarters had a similar setup, though the prince's rooms were larger. It made sense that Ignis has chosen a smaller rooms, though the living area Prompto stepped into felt spacious enough. The furnishings were simple but obviously high-end, enough so that Prompto was a little leery of touching anything lest he break it. Ignis probably wouldn't care, but Prompto would still feel guilty.

“Nice digs,” Prompto said, the words simple but genuine, as he stepped lightly on the polished flooring. He heard the door shut behind him, and then Ignis’ hand sliding against his back as the taller man came to stand beside him.

“I'm glad you think so,” Ignis said, smiling despite the tense little note at the edge of his voice. “Would you like anything to drink?” he asked, gesturing with his free hand to a neat kitchenette on the other side of the room. 

Prompto shook his head as he turned to face his boyfriend, slowly circling his arms around Ignis’ middle as he pressed their bodies together. He felt a twinge of amusement at the offer. Only Ignis would be so unfailingly committed to good manners, even knowing that Prompto hadn't agreed to come up here because he was thirsty. Well, not  _ that _ kinda thirsty. 

“Are you sure?” Ignis asked, and Prompto couldn’t tell if he was teasing or just nervous. Maybe both. “I could--mmph!” He was cut off mid-sentence when Prompto pushed up and kissed him. It only took minimal coaxing, a light swipe of tongue, for Ignis to relax again into the kiss. They were still standing by the door, so Prompto backed Ignis slowly against it, and felt a smile form on Ignis’ lips. 

“Eager, are we?” he murmured against Prompto’s busy mouth. 

“Well,  _ yeah,” _ Prompto answered, because Ignis was stating the obvious. He was nervous himself, but there was a tight coil of  _ want _ in the pit of his stomach. Whatever happened here, however far Ignis wanted to take things was fine with him, even if it was just more kissing. Kissing Ignis was something he could never possibly get tired of.

There  _ was _ something he wanted, though. Something he wanted to express, but the words scared him just a little, enough to trap them where they bubbled in his heart. It would be easier, less frightening to try and convey how he felt by doing whatever he could to make Ignis feel good. That was more important than his own needs at the moment, and that was where his current eagerness sprung from. 

To quiet the prickle of nerves, he leaned up to kiss Ignis again, and there was a slow heat to it this time that was somehow different from every other time they'd been together. Ignis met him for each brush of lips and each slide of tongue, and a low noise rose out of his chest as Prompto did his best to mold their bodies together. Nothing else mattered in that moment, though Prompto had enough presence of mind to grin when Ignis slid a hand down to squeeze his ass. The hand tried to pull away, like Ignis realized what he'd been doing was ungentlemanly, but Prompto grabbed his arm and kept him in place. 

Prompto slid his mouth away from Ignis’ then, trailing kisses down his chin and along the angle of his jaw. He dropped a few deliberate, open-mouthed kisses against the tendon in Ignis’ neck, then pulled back so he could look up at his boyfriend. Ignis stared right back, his eyes darker than Prompto had ever seen them, the pupils blown wide. Swallowing, Prompto shifted to the side so his knee slipped between Ignis’ legs, and his hip pressed against the bulge in Ignis’ slacks. At that, Ignis drew in a sharp little breath, but he said nothing, just continued to watch Prompto, waiting to see what he’d do.

_ Oh gods, is this really happening? _ Prompto had been so ready for this for months, and he’d spent so much time thinking it would never happen. Ever since they’d started going out he’d been practically champing at the bit, and now that he had the opportunity he could feel his stomach churning with nerves. 

“I--,” he began, wanting to look away but forcing himself to look Ignis in the eyes. “I wanna make you feel good,” he whispered, and the words felt inadequate, inexperienced, but he pushed on. “Can I?” 

Ignis’ throat bobbed, and Prompto could see his pulse throbbing, could feel it throbbing against his hip too, and the thought of that made him dizzy. “Yes,” Ignis said, and he sounded strained. “You don’t have to, but…” Prompto was pretty uncomfortable in his own pants, but hearing Ignis’ voice so rough with want made it easy to ignore his own arousal. 

“I  _ want  _ to. Tell me...Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Prompto said, just because he always felt better when  _ somebody  _ said it, though he had a feeling Ignis wouldn’t stop him. _ I hope.  _

Heart pounding, Prompto kissed Ignis again, a few deep, wanting kisses, then he kissed a trail down the other side of his jaw, down his neck. He stopped to suck gently on that jumping vein in Ignis’ throat, not enough to leave a mark but enough to make Ignis draw in a breath. While he did that, Prompto set his fingers to loosening Ignis’ tie and unfastening the first few buttons on his shirt. He brushed his lips along a sharply defined collarbone, and dragged the blunt edges of his fingernails down the sides of Ignis’ ribs, under his blazer but over his shirt. His efforts were rewarded with another breath--Ignis didn’t seem to be the noisy type, then. Well, that was fine. Prompto could be noisy enough for the both of them. 

Next he worked on untucking Ignis’ shirt--he felt hands on his shoulders, just resting there, letting Prompto have free reign to do as he pleased. When he glanced back up, Ignis’ face looked a little more tense, but whether it was with nerves or desire, or both, Prompto couldn’t tell. “Is this okay?” he asked anyway, and Ignis reached up, stroking the back of his knuckles down Prompto’s cheek.

“You don’t need to keep asking,” he said, words thick. I kind of do, though, Prompto thought. He had to know if Ignis actually liked what he was doing, if he was comfortable. _ It’s Ignis. It’s not like he’s shy, he’ll tell me if he doesn’t like it.  _

Prompto turned his head to kiss the knuckles resting against his jaw, then tilted his head up to kiss Ignis again as he finished untucking his boyfriend’s shirt. Then he tentatively shifted his hips again, grinding his thigh upwards between Ignis’ legs, and he felt rather than heard the deep rumble that came from somewhere in Ignis’ chest.  _ Fuck, that’s hot. _ He opened eyes he didn’t remember closing  as he tore his mouth away from the kiss, and wiped a hand over his mouth--his lips felt swollen already, and he hadn’t really gotten started. 

“If you don’t want me to ask, then tell me what you want,” Prompto said, and they were both surprised by the words if the look on Ignis’ face was anything to go by. But his hips bucked forward, an obvious answer, and he swallowed hard. 

“Just keep going,” Ignis said, almost pleading. Prompto found himself reevaluating his earlier thought that Ignis wasn’t shy.  _ Or maybe he just thinks asking me to suck his dick is too crude. _

Grinning now, Prompto slid a hand slowly along the waist of Ignis’ slacks, tracing his shiny leather belt. He paused at the buckle, taking his time to slide the tine free from the strap. The button he ignored for a moment once the belt was undone, ghosting his hand against the noticeable outline of Ignis’ erection. He focused on what his hands were doing, but he could hear Ignis’ breathing speeding up. 

“Prompto,” he whispered, nearly a hiss. Prompto slid his gaze slowly up, saw the raw need reflected in Ignis’ gaze, and felt his heart leap.  _ Okay. Maybe too much teasing for the first time. _ Prompto usually didn’t even go much for teasing in the bedroom, but this was Ignis. Even as nervous as Prompto was, he was still more at ease with Ignis than he had been with anybody else in a long time. 

“Sorry, babe,” Prompto murmured, and he swiftly finagled the front of Ignis’ slacks open wide. The bulge in his boxer briefs was suddenly much more prominent, and Prompto shivered as he flattened his palm, sliding it first beneath Ignis’ shirt to feel the heat of his skin. Then he slipped his fingers down over the fabric of Ignis’ underwear and palmed him. He felt so fucking hot, even through the cloth, the length of him throbbing in Prompto’s hand. And  _ finally  _ Ignis made a soft, needy noise, not quite a moan, but close. 

Prompto felt a sudden, desperate need to hear more noises like that. He’d do whatever it took. He found his hand slipping underneath the waistband of Ignis’ underwear, and touching his bare, silky flesh for the first time made them both shudder. Briefly, Prompto entertained the idea of stripping Ignis down, of dragging him to bed, but that all seemed like far too many steps for him to handle at the moment. Ignis was right  _ there _ , right in front of him, and Prompto was slowly stroking what little of his cock he could reach within the confines of Ignis’ briefs. 

“That feel good?” Prompto asked as another shudder wracked Ignis’ body. His own voice sounded a little hoarse rather than coy, but Ignis didn’t seem to mind if the way he crushed their mouths together was any indication. The kiss was wet and sloppy, not very Ignis-like at all, but it answered Prompto’s question. As did the way Ignis pushed his hips forward, trying to get more friction. 

It was those tight briefs that were the problem, Prompto thought. Too constricting. He couldn’t get a good grasp, couldn’t move his hand enough. He pushed at Ignis’ slacks until they rested lower on his hips, and let go of Ignis for a moment--and Ignis actually made a noise of protest at that,  _ holy fuck _ \--to slip his thumbs under the waistband of Ignis’ briefs to tug them down. Just enough to free him, to let his stiff cock bob in the open air between them. 

“Fuck, Iggy,” Prompto breathed, and he teased his fingers beneath the bare length, feeling it twitch under his ministrations. Ignis hissed, and Prompto glanced up at him once more, seeing his eyes were almost black now, heavy lidded but imploring. Prompto’s own cock throbbed inside of his jeans, and it was an effort not to try and grind against Ignis’ leg. Instead, he took Ignis in hand again, gave him a few slow strokes, the length of him a perfect fit for Prompto’s grip. 

“Prompto, I--please, darling,” Ignis gasped. Again, the endearment made Prompto’s pounding heart flutter painfully. He couldn’t turn down such a sweet request. I want to do this just as bad as he wants me to. He could still scarcely believe that; Ignis wanted  _ him _ , really  _ wanted  _ him. Ignis cared about him, wanted to know everything about him, and catalogued it all in a notebook like a giant nerd. But it was such an Ignis thing to do, and it was adorable, and Prompto wanted to show Ignis how much he appreciated all of it, all of the care and attention Ignis showed him just because he wanted to.

He leaned up one more time, pressed his lips once more to the corner of Ignis’ mouth and pulled back before Ignis’ could catch him with another needy kiss. Without breaking eye contact he lowered himself slowly to his knees, never stopping the steady glide of his fingers on Ignis’ heated skin. “You’re so good to me, Iggy,” he murmured, and he kiss the head of Ignis’ cock, the flesh angry-red, clear fluid already beading at the slit. Ignis’ throat worked, eyes burning into Prompto’s, going wide at the contact. Before he could say anything else, Prompto nuzzled the cock in his hand, then leaned back and took Ignis into his mouth. 

A jolt seemed to go through Ignis, and his head fell back as his neck arched, thumping against the door. Prompto barely had the presence of mind to be worried that Ignis might have hurt himself, not when Ignis’ hips tried to thrust forward deeper into his mouth. He pulled back with a mixture of amusement and arousal, and dragged his tongue over the head, watching Ignis’ chest heave as he sucked in air. “You look so fucking good like this, Iggy,” he groaned. Disheveled, debauched--clothing half open, skin flushed where it was bare, hands clenched into fists against the door behind him, head thrown back. Prompto shifted on his knees, and reached between his own legs with his free hand to squeeze himself. It didn’t help, and he whimpered and shivered, and pressed kisses up and down Ignis’ cock, holding the base of it with his other hand. 

_ Focus on what you’re doing, jeez. _ It was their first time together; he had Ignis right where he’d been wanting him so badly, and he wanted to make sure his boyfriend enjoyed this. So he let go of himself and placed that hand on Ignis’ hip to keep him still, and then dove back in, taking Ignis deep into his mouth. There weren’t many things Prompto actually considered himself to be good at, but this was one area where he’d always thought himself skilled. Nobody else he’d ever been with had ever had any complaints, not that he wanted to think about any of them now. All he cared about was getting Ignis off, because frankly the man deserved it; this, and everything else Prompto could give him.

He bobbed down, enjoying the weight of Ignis’ cock on his tongue, the burning heat of him. There was a salty taste pooling on track back of his tongue, and a strong, masculine scent filled his nose, causing his head to swim. A groan bubbled up his throat, and he felt Ignis shake beneath his hand, try to thrust again, but Prompto held him in place. Had it been a while for him or something? Not that Prompto could really say anything about dry spells himself.  _ All the more reason to make sure he loses it.  _

A hand curled into the hair at the back of Prompto’s head, not tugging or pushing, just resting there as he moved. He flattened his tongue so it would drag hard against the bottom of Ignis’ cock with each bob of his head, and heard more quiet sounds above him. At some point Prompto’s eyes had drifted shut, and he dragged them open to find Ignis watching him now, mouth open slightly as he panted, need etched into the tense form of his body. “Just like that,” Ignis murmured, though he said it like he wasn’t even aware that he was speaking out loud. His fingers began to scratch gently against Prompto’s scalp, and the sensation was enough to make Prompto moan again.

It could only have been a few minutes, but he felt like he was drowning in Ignis, utterly overwhelmed. His jaw was aching, and he felt saliva gathering at the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t care. Ignis was throbbing against his tongue, and Prompto formed his lips tight around the length of him and began to suck hard. His hand moved with his mouth--he realized his eyes had shut again but didn’t bother opening them. Ignis whimpered--actually whimpered--and Prompto could hear him muttering under his breath, babbling encouragement. So Prompto took him deep, relaxing his throat around the head of Ignis cock and did his best to swallow around him. 

Apparently it was too much. Before he could draw back Ignis made a strangled choking noise, cock pulsing in Prompto’s mouth, and he felt the rush of heat going down his throat. 

Satisfied, Prompto drew back, sucking slowly as Ignis’ body quaked through his orgasm. Prompto himself was still rock hard, and that little problem was beginning to ache now that Ignis was taken care of, but that could wait. Humming, enjoying the way Ignis’ breathing hitched, Prompto waited until he’d begun to soften to pull back fully, placing one last kiss on the head before tucking him back into his underwear. 

There were hands on his shoulders, then, urging him up, and Prompto obliged, rising on shaky legs, expecting bruising kisses or to be crushed against Ignis’. What he got instead as he was held gently to Ignis’ chest was a slow, sweet kiss. It was almost chaste, which after what had just happened made Prompto’s head spin a little. Ignis slipped his tongue into Prompto’s mouth, and he must have liked the fact that he could taste himself there, because he made a quiet noise of satisfaction. Then he was kissing Prompto on the cheeks, on the nose, on the forehead, on his eyelids--all over his face, until Prompto couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Iggy!” he said, only to have any other words he might have spoken smothered by Ignis’ mouth on his, again.

“You are astonishing,” Ignis said to him, and Prompto blinked up at him and saw nothing on his face but pure adoration. If Prompto hadn’t already been flushed red with desire, he might have blushed at that. 

“I’m--,”

“No,” Ignis said, silencing him with shake of his head, “No arguments in this. You’re incredible.” He really meant it. It was almost too much for Prompto to handle, and he thought he might have starting tearing up so he kissed Ignis again, and this time it  _ was  _ bruising. 

When Ignis took control of the kiss Prompto let him with only a low moan of approval. Hands cupped his face, holding him still so Ignis could grind their mouths together, scraping teeth against Prompto’s lips until he was a quaking mess. He arched his body up, holding Ignis’ hips against his, and realized that he was rather unabashedly seeking friction for his own trapped erection. Some distant, rational part of his brain knew he should be embarrassed for dry-humping Ignis’ leg, but he’d never been so turned on in his entire life. Shame was for people who didn’t get to see Ignis Scientia fall apart from a blowjob. 

“Iggy,” he sighed as Ignis released his mouth and began kissing under his jaw, tilting Prompto’s head back with a guiding hand for better access. “ _ Oh. _ ” Petal soft kisses traced down Prompto’s throat, pausing to nuzzle at the junction between Prompto’s neck and shoulder. He felt his shirt collar being tugged aside, and gasped as Ignis’ exploring mouth latched onto the spot. “Fuck!” Prompto was fairly open about what he wanted when he let someone touch him this way, and to his delight Ignis took his encouragement the way he’d intended; by sucking hard on the erogenous zone until Prompto felt like he was going to shake apart with pleasure. 

He panted hard as Ignis leaned back to inspect his work, only looking up when he felt a finger under his chin. The way Ignis was looking at him when their eyes locked made Prompto’s mouth go dry; his eyes were glassy and hot, intense with a hunger that had Prompto’s stomach flipping with excitement. 

“Go lie on the bed,” Ignis instructed softly, but the heat in his voice had Prompto wanting to scramble to obey. Instead, he forced himself to take measured steps toward the door Ignis indicated. When he stepped through, he paused for just a moment to take in Ignis’ bedroom. It was clearly just a space to sleep to him--there didn’t seem to be many personal effects, though there were a few plants clustered on the windowsill. There was a closet on the opposite wall, a walk-in Prompto could see through the open door, and it was neatly lined with all of Ignis’ suits and a few of his more casual outfits. 

What took up the most space--and immediately drew Prompto’s gaze--was the bed. It wasn’t massive, but it was a lot bigger than Prompto’s bed at home. There was definitely space enough for two or more people, though the idea of Ignis in a threesome or orgy situation was too much for Prompto’s overloaded brain to comprehend. He breathed through gritted teeth as his cock throbbed at just the hint of that mental image, and this time he did scramble up onto the mattress. 

To his delight, the mattress was a lot comfier than he’d been expecting. There was a fluffy down comforter, uniformly black, and he smoothed his hands over it as he sat on the edge of the bed and watched Ignis fill up the doorway. There were a few seconds where they just stared at each other, like they’d lost the plot of what they were doing. Then Prompto blurted, “Do you want me to take of my shoes?” Somehow that seemed like something he should do anyway, but the words also served to set things back in motion. 

Ignis smiled, and stepped forward, leaning down to kiss him, albeit more sweetly than he had out in the living room. “Just lie back.” Prompto wasn’t going to argue with that. He was beyond the ability to question anything at this point, not with his dick straining so urgently inside his jeans. So he scooted back on the bed, sinking into the mattress with a sigh as Ignis followed, kneeling over him. Rather than just diving back in, Ignis looked down at him almost quizzically. He reached up and unlooped his loosened tie from his neck, dropping it off the side of the bed, then shrugged out of his blazer as he quietly studied Prompto. 

“Iggy,” Prompto whined, squirming slightly and reaching up to smooth his hands over Ignis’ partially unbuttoned shirt. The muscles beneath jumped at his touch, and he bit his lip as he cast pleading eyes up at his boyfriend’s musing expression. “Are you gonna do somethin’, or just stare at me?”

“What would you like me to do?” Ignis said. “I don’t...I’m not certain how far you’d like this to go.” He still looked heated, wanting, but wavering, too. Prompto was honestly beginning to wonder just how experienced Ignis actually was, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to pin that thought down and examine it properly. 

“I just...Gods, we don’t have to fuck, but  _ please _ ,” he said, plaintively and suggestively bucking his hips up. Ignis had been straddling his legs, and he had to be able to see--and now feel--Prompto’s arousal. Chagrined but smiling, Ignis reached for Prompto’s belt, quickly unfastening it as he murmured an apology. The relief once his belt was loosened and his pants were being unbuttoned was instant. Prompto always rolled his eyes when he heard other guys trying to convince someone that an erection hurt--when it was being restricted, yeah it was uncomfortable, but as Ignis freed him from the confines of his skinny jeans the ache of being hard became a pleasant one. 

Prompto propped himself up on his elbows so he could better see what Ignis was doing, and felt a small rush of gratitude toward Past Prompto for opting to put on plain boxers that morning. If Ignis had opened up Prompto’s jeans and found his chocobo or cactuar print underwear he might have literally died of mortification. These ones were bright red, and they were both spared having to see Prompto’s cock straining against a cutesy cartoon animal print.

Any relief he felt was instantly forgotten when Ignis decided to trace a finger down the length of him. The gentle, teasing touch made Prompto gasp and buck up again, seeking more. Ignis arched a brow at him, barely suppressing a grin. “Well, aren’t we sensitive,” he observed. 

“Don’t tease me, babe. I’m gonna come in my underwear,” Prompto told him, wriggling between Ignis’ thighs. He wasn’t exaggerating, either. His whole body was thrumming with desire, and he wouldn’t last long, no matter what Ignis did to him. Frankly, Prompto was surprised he hadn’t come when Ignis had; feeling Ignis peak so suddenly, right down his throat had been one of the hottest things Prompto had ever experienced. 

“‘Babe,’ is a bit undignified, don’t you think?” Ignis asked him, sounding almost nonchalant as he urged Prompto to lift his hips, tugging his pants down over them just enough to give him better access.

“Well, I can’t pull off ‘darling,’ and I’m pretty sure you’d dump me if I called you ‘sweet cheeks,’ or ‘hot stuff,’” Prompto said, a lot less casually. He was panting now, quietly pleading with Ignis to go faster. 

“Mmm, I’d be more partial toward ‘sweetheart,’ or variations thereof,” Ignis said, and Prompto realized through his haze of desire that Ignis was doing this on purpose. But he couldn’t summon a sufficient amount of irritation, especially when Ignis finally tugged at Prompto’s boxers and revealed his twitching hard-on. 

Prompto was secretly amazed by how red his dick was, but it had been suffering for at least thirty minutes now, trapped in the confines of his too-tight jeans. Now it leaked freely against his lower belly, and he debated pulling his shirt up and away from the mess he was making on his own skin. But he balked at taking his shirt off, or even hiking it up--if he did that would open up a whole other line of conversation he wasn’t prepared for, and it would kill the mood. He also just didn’t want Ignis to see him naked yet, not until he was clear-headed enough to explain. 

And there was that tiny voice that whispered nobody would want to see Prompto’s stretch marks, that Ignis would be instantly turned-off by them. 

There was no need for them to get naked, thankfully--and Prompto couldn’t believe that was a thought that he’d had in his own head, but even the thought of naked Ignis couldn’t overcome his sudden anxiety.  _ Relax. Don’t fucking overthink this. _ All of this had been so spur of the moment, and Prompto was sort of glad for that, that it had just happened, and they hadn’t had time to build up to it and be overwhelmed by nerves or insecurity. 

All thought fled his mind then as Ignis took Prompto’s cock in hand, pumping it slowly. Nothing mattered except for that sweet point of contact, and Prompto made a noise that was halfway between a gasp and a moan. “Gods, Prompto. The sounds you make,” Ignis growled, and then he was shifting backward, and Prompto got to watch as Ignis Scientia bent low and swallowed his cock. 

Prompto might have shouted, and he was pretty sure he swore, but his mind went blank when Ignis engulfed him in perfect, wet heat. His tongue was like velvet, tracing Prompto’s over-sensitive skin, and when he started slowly sucking, white stars burst in front of Prompto’s eyes. He wasn’t even sure that his eyes were open anymore, and at some point he’d flopped back on the bed, fingers fisting the comforter. “Fuck, Iggy, I’m--!” Was that his voice? It sounded so high pitched, strained with pleasure. He was so close already, embarrassingly fast. No one had ever made him feel so much so fast, overwhelmed him like this. 

Maybe it was just that he was with Ignis, and he was head-over-fucking-heels in love with the guy. 

Prompto came then, and everything sort of stopped existing except for the pleasure sweeping through him in a white-hot flood. Was he even a person anymore? He was pretty sure he’d just transcended physical existence. Later on he’d wonder if he was just being overdramatic as he floated through his bliss, but at the moment he was drowning in sensation and he didn’t care. 

When he’d gathered enough of his senses to realize he hadn’t died and gone to heaven, he realized there was a body lying alongside him. A hand was cupping the side of his face, the thumb slowly stroking his cheek. He smiled. “You really know how to show a guy a good time,” he mumbled without opening his eyes.

Ignis chuckled beside him. Prompto felt him move, and then a kiss was dropped onto his nose, and he did open his eyes. Ignis was propped up on an elbow, staring down at him, expression warm and contented. “I could say the same of you,” he said. Prompto only hummed, turning toward him and curling into his chest. Ignis somehow still smelled of cologne, with only a hint of sweat, and Prompto breathed it in. He couldn’t stop grinning, he was so ridiculously happy. 

The hand stroking his face slid down, and Ignis made a soft noise that Prompto couldn’t identify as his fingers traced a spot on Prompto’s neck. “I shouldn’t have left such an obvious mark on you,” he said softly.

“S’fine,” Prompto said, burrowing closer still. “‘S’nice.” He liked the idea of being marked by Ignis, of having been the one to drive Ignis so wild that the man couldn’t help but suck a hickey onto his skin. 

There was silence for a few peaceful moments, and Prompto was close to drifting off when Ignis said, “That wasn’t...too much too quickly, was it?”

“Iggy,” Prompt groaned, and he stretched until he could tilt his head back and look up at Ignis’ worried gaze. “Iggy,” he said again, more gently, and reached up to mirror Ignis’ motion from earlier, cupping his cheek. “Iggy, it was great. It was...perfect, okay?”

At that, Ignis seemed to relax. “I suppose it was,” he agreed, the little smile Prompto loved forming on his mouth. “I’d been hoping to do something a bit more romantic the first time, but...I’m not disappointed.”

“What, you didn’t think getting me on my knees was romantic?” Prompto asked with a smirk, and watched with pure delight as Ignis went red.

“You are despicable.”

“I thought I was ‘astonishing’ and ‘incredible,’” Prompto said, and then he squeaked as Ignis grabbed him and flipped him onto his back, fingers digging artfully and expertly into the most ticklish parts of Prompto’s torso. “Iggy no! I’m sorry!” he cried, but he was laughing, and Ignis peppered his face with kisses until he was a repentant, gasping mess. 

“You’re a brat, and you are absolutely wonderful,” Ignis said, his tone stern but his eyes dancing as he finally relented. 

“I can’t believe you just tickle-attacked me,” Prompto huffed, feigning indignation, “I’m going to tell everyone I know what a huge fucking dork you are and ruin your whole serious-political-man reputation.”

“No one would believe you in a million years,” Ignis said smugly as he returned to his relaxed position, and Prompto knew he was right. 

Dropping his feigned outrage, Prompto flopped back against Ignis with a snort of laughter, and then sighed happily when Ignis wrapped him up in his arms. This really was perfect, Prompto thought. All he wanted now was to cuddle, maybe turn the lights off so they could get undressed and curl up together under the covers.

Then they both started when they heard the buzz of a phone vibrating. Prompto looked up at Ignis again and shook his head. “It’s not mine,” he said. 

Prompto had never seen such a look of reluctance on anyone’s face as he did on Ignis’ in that moment. Sighing, Ignis sat up and reached for his pocket, turning and swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he drew his phone out. He remained seated on the edge of the mattress, and Prompto sat up, shifting closer and resting his head between Ignis’ shoulder blades. 

“Yes?” Ignis said as he held the phone to his ear, and Prompto could hear someone talking on the other end, but couldn’t make out the words. He raised a hand and began smoothing it in circles on Ignis’ back as the conversation went on. It was short and concise, with Ignis mostly giving one or two word answers. “Yes...I see...They can’t put it off until tomorrow…? Of course...Yes, I’ll be there...Thank you.” Then the phone beeped, and the call ended. Prompto caught a look at the screen as he lifted his head--it was only seven at night, apparently not too late to drag Ignis back to work. 

“I’m sorry,” Ignis said, and he turned as Prompto sat back. His expression when their eyes met was one of disappointment, and he looked so put-out and apologetic that Prompto felt a little guilty for putting him in such a position.

“It’s okay,” he said, and hurried to add, “I mean, you said this was gonna happen sometimes.”

“You’re not upset?” Ignis asked, and he almost sounded worried, like he thought Prompto wouldn’t care that he was being called away.

“I mean...a little, but it’s not your fault,” he said, lowering his gaze and plucking at the comforter. “It’s your job. You can’t put everything else off just for me.” Ignis surged forward and kissed him then, and Prompto returned the kiss eagerly.  _ I’m not mad at you,  _ he thought. If he was truly upset with anyone, it was whoever had thought it was a great idea to give a child the position of royal advisor to the prince. They were just lucky that Ignis was so loyal and dedicated to Noct. 

“Thank you,”  Ignis sighed as he sat back. “No one has ever been so understanding as you, and I fear I don’t deserve it.” Prompto opened his mouth to object, but Ignis forestalled him. “If it’s any consolation, I’d much rather stay here with you.”

Prompto subsided and offered him a small grin. “Yeah, me, or a bunch of boring old politicians and event planners, what a tough decision.” Ignis laughed, and kissed his cheek. 

“Come. Let’s freshen ourselves up,” he said, standing and offering Prompto his hand. 

Prompto took it haltingly. What he wanted to do was curl up in this ridiculously comfortable bed next to his boyfriend and fall asleep in his arms, even if it was kind of early for bed. Since that wasn’t really an option, though… “Can I...would it be weird if I stayed here?” Prompto asked.

Surprise flashed across Ignis’ face, then consideration. “You mean you’d wait for me?” he asked, like it was such an odd concept that someone would be willing to do that.  _ Well, maybe it is. _ Ignis had literally just told him that nobody else had ever been so accepting of his duties. He’d said before that people always expected him to make an exception for them. Prompto could imagine some faceless lover trying to guilt Ignis into staying, and then growing angry when he couldn’t say yes. Maybe they would storm out or cause a scene in public, leaving Ignis to deal with the aftermath. 

Just the thought of it was disheartening, knowing that Ignis wouldn’t  _ want  _ to disappoint anyone, he just didn’t have any choice. How many times had someone hurt him like that?

“I mean, if it’s okay,” Prompto said.

Ignis’ expression softened, but there was an almost fierce affection in his eyes. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. You might be here for hours, alone.”

Prompto shrugged, and squeezed his hand. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” It might be a little weird to be in Ignis’ rooms alone, but he had his phone for entertainment. And he just really, really didn’t want to leave. 

Apparently Ignis didn’t mind, if the kiss that followed was any indication. If anything, he seemed to like the thought of coming back to find Prompto in his rooms, in his bed. The kiss left them both a little breathless, and Ignis appeared to be in a better mood as he straightened his clothing and went into the bathroom to freshen up.

“You can make yourself something to eat or drink if you like,” Ignis said as Prompto followed him to the door. Five minutes in the bathroom and there was not a hair out of place; the only evidence of what he’d been up to that evening were slightly reddened lips. “I’ll try not to be too long, but sometimes these unexpected meetings can go on for hours.”

“It’s fine,” Prompto insisted. He leaned up to give Ignis one last kiss. “If they get really boring, you can always think of how it felt when I was blowing you.”

“Prompto, that is the  _ opposite  _ of helpful,” Ignis chided him, but he was smiling, his face only slightly red. “Do try to behave yourself.” Still smirking, he turned to open the door, and Prompto gasped.

“Wait! I just remembered!” he said, actually smacking himself on the forehead.

“What?” Ignis asked, blinking down at him in confusion.

“The whole reason I was in your office in the first place. I wanted to ask you out on a date,” Prompto said.

Ignis just stared at him a moment. “Darling, we’re already dating.”

“I know that!” Prompto huffed, grabbing Ignis’ arm and giving him an exuberant shake. “But you’ve been taking the reins pretty much all the time, and I finally thought of someplace I could take you!” 

“Oh? And where is that?” Ignis said with interest, looking pleased and a bit taken aback. Did nobody  _ ever  _ think of things like this for him?

“There’s a photography exhibit at the art museum all this month, and I can get us tickets to go whenever you want. I mean...if you want to, that is. I know photography is my thing, but you seem like you’re into art and we can see the rest of the museum, too. I just...I thought it’d be fun, y’know?” He knew he was babbling, but he was anxious suddenly, and he hadn’t been able to ask the way he’d wanted to. And now he was doubting his grand plan on top of everything else, wondering if it was selfish to drag Ignis along to something he might have no interest in.

“I’d like that,” Ignis said, cutting Prompto off mid-thought. 

“Really?” Prompto said. 

“Yes. You’re the photography expert so you can give me the tour,” Ignis said, and Prompto wanted to drag him back into the bedroom, meeting be damned. 

“Okay. I mean, great!” Prompto said as he released Ignis’ arm. “Okay. Right. Go to your meeting. I’ll be here.”

“You don’t need to stay if you get bored,” Ignis told him.

“I won’t. Get bored, I mean. I promise.” Ignis smiled again at that, and finally left the room. Prompto hurried to take off his shoes since he’d never gotten around to it, and had to fight the urge to run and dive bomb into Ignis’ bed. The thought of Ignis coming back to him after his meeting, and imagining what their date at the museum would be like was enough to stave off any boredom or disappointment at being left alone. And it was early yet, plenty of time for a meeting to take place before it got too late, right? Prompto pulled out his phone as he curled on top of the sheets. He could play King’s Knight while he waited, or watch videos until Ignis got back.

Hours later, he opened his eyes sluggishly and saw Ignis shrugging out of his blazer. “Time s’it?” he mumbled as he sat halfway up.

“Midnight,” Ignis said wearily. But then he smiled as he tugged his tie loose, circling around the bed. “You stayed.”

“I told you I would,” Prompto said around a yawn. Ignis sat on the bed and pulled off his shoes. Prompto flopped back down and listened to the sounds of his boyfriend getting ready to sleep. He must have dozed off again though, because the next thing he knew, Ignis was urging him up so they could both slip under the covers. 

“Thank you,” Ignis murmured into his hair, and Prompto was too sleepy to say he hadn’t done anything special. He settled with Ignis at his back, wrapped up in Ignis’ arms, and thought again that this was perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this offering of smut ;^)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, I’ve been piecing this chapter together for weeks, and it didn’t even turn out that long. They decided at the office where I work that I’m the Best on my team so they made me the person who trains new people, and they’re trying to make me into some kind of assistant supervisor which I have no interest in. I don’t care what anyone else does, I just want to do my work and go home. I’m also not getting a raise for any of this until I “””“prove myself”””. Anyway, training people takes up so much of my time that I can’t get my own work done, then I have to work double time to catch up, then I have to train more people, and do you see my problem yet?
> 
> I’m so tired. I love you guys tho, so here’s this.

Waking up in Ignis’ arms was fast becoming Prompto’s new favorite activity--or one of them, anyway. If sex with Ignis was going to be that good  _ every  _ time then Prompto was pretty sure that  _ that  _ was going to take pride of place at the top of the list. 

Just being near Ignis was wonderful; being able to touch him, kiss him, set Prompto’s stomach flipping with elated disbelief. Everything about him was fascinating, and everything he did was incredible, and he was just so...so…was there even a word for it? 

Prompto remembered how pathetic he’d been before he had found out that Ignis liked him back. He hadn’t thought he could possibly get any more pitiful than that. They were _dating_ now, they’d kissed and held hands and had sex (oral sex, but it counted!), and he found himself literally pining over Ignis while they were lying in bed together. _I can’t believe this is real, that last night really happened. He’s so perfect, I don’t ever want to get out of this bed. Ugh._ _No wonder Noct thinks we’re gross._

For a wonder, Prompto had woken up first. Whenever he knew he had to be awake early for something, be it work or an appointment, his internal clock developed some irritating time-based anxiety and woke him up before his alarm had a chance to go off. Normally he’d groan and roll over and try to doze off again for as long as he could before he absolutely  _ had  _ to get up. That morning he’d awoken in Ignis’ arms, confused for a moment until he’d remembered where he was. Then he’d grinned so hard it made his face hurt. 

Ignis’ arms were wrapped loosely around him in sleep. Prompto could feel even puffs of breath against his ear, ruffling his hair and tickling his neck. A leg was hooked over his, and Prompto’s hands were resting on top of Ignis’. Best of all, there was a gentle, nearly imperceptible thump-thumping that he could feel against his back, where Ignis’ chest was pressed. They hadn’t moved much in their sleep, which was surprising. Prompto was a sprawler, and he tended to toss and turn, even if he had something--or someone--to cuddle with. When he slept in Noct’s bed he usually wound up chasing his friend to the edge of the mattress, but Ignis had managed to anchor him to one spot. 

The only thing that could have made it better would have been if they were face to face. Prompto would have given anything to see Ignis’ face, peaceful in sleep, but there would be plenty of opportunities for that in the future.  _ I hope. _ After Ignis’ late night, Prompto wasn’t going to risk waking him up by rolling over. So he relaxed in his boyfriend’s arms, and wound up drifting off, only to be woken again a short time later by Ignis’ alarm. 

Prompto felt Ignis immediately try to shift away, and it was only then that he finally rolled over, moving quickly while Ignis’ was still wrapped up around him. “I think you should take the day off,” he heard himself saying. Ignis was still blinking awake, in the middle of a yawn with his fist over his mouth, but his body shook with a single huff of laughter.

“Much as I would prefer that, I think playing hooky at this point in time might actually earn me a suspension from my duties,” Ignis explained, his voice still rough with sleep. He was just as beautiful like this as Prompto had thought he would be, hair all mussed, eyes squinting blearily in the dim light. Without his glasses, Ignis looked so much younger.

“This is a good look for you,” Prompto said. 

“What? Unshaven and rumpled?” Ignis asked as he turned to reach behind himself for his phone, silencing the jingling alarm. 

“Well that, yeah. But, I dunno. You look nice with your hair down, too. And I like you without those accountant glasses--er, not that you don’t look great with them on! I’m just sayin’,” Prompto said, reaching up to comb his fingers through Ignis’ hair while he still had the chance. His light brown hair was thick and glossy in its natural state, where Prompto’s was silky and feathery. 

“You mean I look younger?” Ignis said, echoing Prompto’s earlier thought with a grimace. “Yes, I know. I find I’m taken less seriously when I remind certain people here at the Citadel how young I actually am.” 

“Oh,” Prompto said, frowning, pausing with his fingers buried in Ignis’ hair. He hadn’t considered that that might be a factor. “Are you like, wicked young for an advisor?”

“The youngest in a few generations, yes. Back in the days before child labor laws, a Shield and an advisor were sworn to a new prince or princess at birth, sometimes when they were barely old enough to speak the oaths, much less understand them.” Prompto thought he saw Ignis’ mouth twist, though the movement was almost imperceptible. 

_ So it bothers him, too. _ And knowing Ignis, he would never say anything about it. Even if loyalty and duty had been thrust upon him at such a young age, Ignis still believed in those virtues. Add to that that his friendship with Noct was an authentic and longstanding relationship; they could almost read each other's’ minds at times, like close siblings. If Ignis felt any bitterness at all about his position, Prompto knew that it couldn’t be directed at Noct.  _ But he’d probably still feel guilty about it.  _

Prompto almost-- _ almost _ \--said something. But it was too early in the morning, and the mood was so peaceful, and he had an inkling that Ignis wouldn’t appreciate having something that personal dragged out into the open. 

So instead of putting his foot in his mouth, Prompto curled his fingers into a loose fist in Ignis’ hair and leaned in for a kiss. 

After only a moment, he pulled back and was gratified to see that a small smile graced Ignis’ lips. “I get it. But you gotta promise to wear your hair down sometime for me.”

“Only if you promise that you’ll wear your glasses for me,” Ignis said, and Prompto blinked at him in surprise.

“Really? That’d do it for you?” Ignis propped himself up on an elbow and gave him a rather decisive nod. Prompto snorted. “Ok, weirdo. Deal.” 

x

That morning they got ready for the day together. Prompto used Ignis’ shower--alone, at Ignis’ behest, more out of concern that they would get distracted and be late for work than anything else. Prompto was grateful for the privacy, as it turned out; as much as he’d have enjoyed having a wet, naked Ignis to ogle, he wasn’t ready yet to reveal...certain things.  _ It’s not just the stretchmarks, _ he thought as he nervously rubbed a thumb over the vertical lines on his right wrist, standing under the spray of the showerhead. Not for the first time he wished he could just wipe away the marks inked onto his skin. Maybe once he was a famous photographer he’d be able to afford to have them burned off by some discreet dermatologist. 

Feeling indulgent, he used Ignis’ soaps and shampoo, though he did so sparingly since they were all higher end and probably super expensive. The important thing was that he’d get to spend a day smelling like Ignis. He wished he had a jacket or something to leave behind “accidentally” so it would get thrown in with Ignis’ wash and come out smelling like Ignis’ clothes, too.  _ Or I could steal one of his coats. I’m the boyfriend, it’s kind of expected. _ ..But no, Ignis’ clothing was all tailor made, and again, expensive. 

When they were both showered and dressed--Prompto would be changing into his uniform in the locker room, so he didn’t feel too skeevy wearing day-old clothes--they stood in front of the mirror together. Ignis’ bathroom was small, relative to the rest of his palace apartment. It wasn’t cramped, like Prompto’s at home, though they had to stand close as they finished their morning routines. Prompto’s regimen was far more elaborate than Ignis’, but he did everything twice as fast. He could see Ignis watching him out of the corner of his eye as he popped his contacts in. Following that was eyeliner, then he quickly twisted his floppy blond hair into a passable coif. Prompto had other hygiene supplies stored in his locker at the training facility, but he did steal a spritz of Ignis’ cologne, much to Ignis’ amusement. 

Ignis was far more meticulous in his routine. Every hair had to be in place, and it took a lot longer to style when his hair was freshly washed than it had when he was just neatening himself up. _ I still say he looks just as good with his hair down. Seriously, what did they put him through all those advanced classes and special training for if they weren’t gonna listen to him just because he’s young?  _ Ignis had to be one of the more competent members of the Lucian court, right? 

“You know,” Prompto said as he twisted the upturned tip of his bangs, “If the court doesn’t take you seriously because of your hair, I guess they’d  _ never  _ take me seriously.” 

“And they’d be all the more foolish for that,” Ignis said without missing a beat, his tone matter-of-fact. The statement made Prompto blink, his skin going rosy. What could he ever possibly have to say to the political players of Lucis? Aside from his friends, of course, and he never talked politics with any of them. It just wasn’t his arena. 

They were nearly done when Prompto pulled his shirt collar to the side to better examine the darkened mark on his neck. It was a nice purplish bruise, very obviously a love-bite. Anybody who saw it would know exactly what he’d been up to. _ Including Gladio and Noct. Yeesh, I’m never gonna hear the end of it.  _ But he was pleased with himself nonetheless. 

“I have some ointment for that...er,” Ignis said, intruding on Prompto’s thoughts as he plucked at the collar of Prompto’s shirt.

“That what?” Prompto asked, blinking innocently up at his flustered boyfriend. Ignis made a face that had Prompto snorting with laughter, and pulled open the medicine cabinet behind the bathroom mirror. “Aw, babe, I don’t want it to heal too fast,” he protested when he realized Ignis was serious.

“Well, I don’t like the idea of leaving bruises on you, so indulge me,” Ignis said flatly. Prompto felt his eyebrows lift, and didn’t complain further as Ignis dabbed some medicated ointment on the hickey. It stung for a moment, then began to tingle. 

“Iggy, you know I liked it, right?” he asked softly when Ignis was done. “I’d tell you to stop if I didn’t.” He leaned against the sink counter, arms folded over his chest, watching Ignis with concern. 

“I know,” Ignis sighed. “I haven’t...No one has ever affected me the way you do. I only worried that I had gotten carried away.”

Prompto scoffed affectionately, then wrapped his arms around Ignis’ chest, hugging him close. “You didn’t. I told you, it was perfect,” he murmured, nuzzling Ignis’ neck and breathing in the scent of his aftershave. Knowing that he could make Ignis feel that way had his heart doing backflips, and he ached at the thought of having to part ways. 

Which brought him back around to that whole pathetic pining thing. Ignis was his boyfriend, and Prompto had had precious few actual relationships in his young life. With the exception of one, each fling, for lack of a better word, had been fun while they lasted but ultimately short-lived. None of the people involved had inspired the same longing he felt for Ignis, like a little ball of fire in his chest that flared whenever the man crossed his mind. Which was a lot. Like,  _ a lot.  _

Was this what love was? He’d thought he’d been in love once, but that hadn’t exactly panned out the way he’d wanted. Prompto recalled that he’d wanted wanted to say it the night before, several times, but he’d shied away from actually doing so. Their relationship was still so new, only a few weeks in, but Prompto had been taken with Ignis for much longer than that. Would that make a difference, or was it too soon for him to be feeling this way?

Ignis made him breakfast; oatmeal, which was usually quick and easy in Prompto’s experience. As it turned out, though, Ignis made his own oatmeal from scratch. He kept it dry in a plastic container and prepared it on the stove, then served it to Prompto with cinnamon and baked apple slices. Prompto was even treated to Ignis’ personal stash of Ebony coffee, something Ignis wouldn’t even share with Noct. 

Every little thing he did, all of these small touches, the simple domesticity of their interactions when they were alone like this, it all added up to make Prompto’s heart swell until he was sure it would burst from his chest. And now that they had had sex, sharing and giving each other pleasure, Prompto felt like something had changed between them, like they were connected in some secret, intimate way. They hadn’t just been using one another to get off like he’d done with other people when he was desperate for a facsimile of affection. Prompto always made sure his bedmates left happy, but it had been a long time since he’d given anyone what he’d given Ignis. 

When finally it was time to leave the room, Prompto stopped Ignis by the door and pulled him into a lingering kiss.  _ It’s ridiculous how in love with you I am, _ he thought as their mouths moved together.  _ I promise I’ll tell you. I’ll probably blurt it out like an idiot and make things awkward, but that’s just because of who I am as a person. _ Hopefully Ignis would be in love with him, too, by then. Until that time, he was going to try and show how he felt in everything he did. 

“I’ll check my schedule today and let you know when I can get some time off,” Ignis told him. 

“Okay,” Prompto said. “Don’t, like...don’t worry about it if you can’t. I know you’re in serious crunch time right now, and a date isn’t as important as--” His words came to an abrupt stop when Ignis placed a silencing finger over his lips.

“I will always make time for you, Prompto. As much as I can,” Ignis told him. Then he traced his finger down and cupped Prompto’s chin, tilting it upward for another kiss. 

Needless to say, Prompto spent most of that day grinning like an idiot. Not even Gladio’s teasing could get to him, he found. 

“You cut yourself shaving there, Blondie?” the Shield asked not so subtly when they were alone on the shooting range. 

Prompto smiled up at him sweetly and said, “Yeah, on Ignis’ mouth.” 

Noct walked into the room about four seconds later to find Gladio bent double, wheezing with laughter. Between that and Prompto’s smug look, the prince seemed to come to a silent conclusion and only said, “I don’t even wanna know.” As soon as Gladio caught his breath, he told him anyway.

x

The Insomnia Museum of Fine Arts was a massive, sprawling building that sat between the campuses of several universities and other cultural attractions. Here, many of the buildings widely set apart from each other, and at the most, three or four storeys tall. Everything was open, wide avenues and green lawns where students would spread out blankets on nice days so they could study outside. One of the schools was an art school--the one where Prompto would be taking his photography class in the spring, in fact. 

At the moment, Prompto sat on a bench outside of the museum while he waited for Ignis, and people-watched with a feeling of anticipation. Soon. He'd be one of the scurrying, harried looking students in just a few months, and it was kind of terrifying but he also couldn't wait. 

“There you are,” a familiar, aristocratic voice intoned. Prompto started as Ignis settled onto the bench beside him, then smiled. 

“Here I am,” he agreed brightly, catching himself before he could lean in and give Ignis a kiss hello. They had agreed to meet at the museum itself, since Prompto didn't have a car. In his mind, it would have been weird for Ignis to pick him up when the date had been Prompto’s idea. Ignis hadn’t quite seemed to understand Prompto’s rationale in this respect, but hadn't pushed the issue. 

That was just another great thing about Ignis--he didn't press Prompto, or tease him for any of his weird thought patterns. Even if he didn't get why Prompto was doing something, Ignis would just let him continue on without censure. 

“I see you're well-prepared,” Ignis noted, taking in Prompto’s appearance with some amusement.

“Well, I gotta look the part, right? I'm the expert, like you said.” Prompto had dressed, for lack of a better term, like a snobby art school hipster. He wore a black and blue striped shirt with a wide collar that exposed a lot of clavicle, skinny jeans with the cuffs rolled up above his ankles, an ugly mustard-yellow beanie, and old man loafers. He thought it was pretty funny, considering he knew nothing about any kind of art other than photography. Not to mention that his entire outfit was maybe the same price as an expensive cup of coffee--thank the Six for thrift stores. He'd have impoverished himself trying to afford the high end boutique clothing he'd found online.

“You look nice,” Ignis said, the compliment as heartfelt as usual, and Prompto offered him a pleased grin. Ignis was dressed about as casually as he ever did, wearing an unbuttoned peach-hued Polo shirt and dark grey slacks. 

“Right back at’cha,” Prompto replied with a wink. Ignis breathed a laugh through his nose, easily returning Prompto’s smile. The urge to kiss him returned tenfold, and Prompto realized they were leaning in close to one another, like something out of a cheesy teen movie. Clearing his throat, he straightened, feeling a flush of disappointment.  _ All I wanna do is kiss my boyfriend. _

Once again, he found himself annoyed with the Lucian royal court. If they weren’t so judgemental then Prompto could kiss Ignis whenever he wanted. 

“I might have played myself,” he admitted, “Does dressing like a hipster ironically actually make me the ultimate hipster?” 

“I wouldn't know,” Ignis said. “I tended not to mesh well with the ‘art snobs’ at university.”

“So you were just a regular snob then? Hey!” Prompto yelped as Ignis reached up and yanked the rim of his beanie down over his eyes.

“It's bloody hot, why are you wearing a wool cap?” Ignis laughed.

“For the aesthetic,” Prompto whined, righting the tight hat. “You're gonna mess up my artfully rumpled hair.”

“Oh, heavens forfend,” Ignis said with mock horror. Then he nodded to the bag slung over Prompto’s shoulder. “Glad to see you came prepared.”

“Dude, of course! I can’t come to a museum and not takes pictures!” 

Prompto had already snapped a few shots of the museum, of the artful lawns and cobbled walkways lined with decorative trees and massive stone flower pots. Everything about this part of town was designed to look fresh and beautiful, even the garbage bins spaced intermittently along the sidewalks were clean black with wrought iron tops bent into elegant domes.

It was ridiculous, and Prompto sort of hated it, considering the state of the city infrastructure in some of the poorer neighborhoods. The thought crossed his mind that he should say something about it--he was dating a pretty important politician, and he was best friends with the crown prince. Something always made him hold his tongue, though.  _ I don't understand politics enough to try and lecture either of them.  _ Besides, it wasn't like they didn't know that the city had problems, or didn't care. 

_ Ok, don't be a downer today. I can be romantic, too. I can be romantic as fuck.  _

“Well, come on, before we miss all the art,” Prompto said, pushing off the bench and bouncing to his feet. He was holding his hands out to help Ignis to his feet, and before he could over think it, Ignis was grasping both hands and letting Prompto haul him up. 

“I don't think the art is going to get up and walk off,” Ignis chuckled.

“How can you be so sure?” Prompto shot back with mock worry. Ignis’ grip went tight on his hands, then dropped away.

“You present a compelling argument. Let us make haste, then.” Prompto almost thought he was going to get a kiss to go along with the sweet look Ignis gave him then. If they weren’t in the middle of a busy plaza he might have. 

_ Be patient for once in your life, _ Prompto thought to himself. Ignis gestured for him to lead the way, and they started up the walkway to the grand front doors of the museum.  _ We’ll be able to be together in the open, and anyone who doesn’t like it can get bent.  _

x

The inside of the museum was just as grand as the outside--it was all polished marble floors, sweeping archways, high ceilings, and muted lighting that wouldn't damage the priceless artwork. 

As soon as they walked through the doors, they were greeted by a lobby decorated with various sculpture works. Many were strange, twisting metal pieces that Prompto couldn't make heads or tails of. He could get symbolism in art, but abstract stuff was beyond him. What he could appreciate was that the wavy bands and scraps of metal all mounted together had taken some artist hours--days--to assemble. Some of them were pretty, too, though he was sure “pretty” wasn't the sole intent.

Prompto had already bought their passes in advance. A bored-looking museum employee gave their passes a cursory glance and let them into the museum proper. As they moved on from the lobby, Prompto realized that he was nervous. Eager as he had been about this whole idea, he found himself fretting over what to say. The photography exhibit was in the central gallery, where each month something new or different was displayed. Instead of heading there directly, he and Ignis walked side by side through the various rooms and halls, almost browsing. 

_ Just saving the best for last, _ he told himself.  _ Totally not avoiding anything. _

Several tour groups were moving through the wings, lead by guides who were clearly following some kind of loose script. They sounded so knowledgeable. Prompto listened, pensive, knowing he could never be so...articulate. He knew that once he got going, he was going to gush and babble and make a fool of himself.

_ You make a fool of yourself all the time. Iggy is probably used to it by now.  _ Oddly enough, the thought wasn't very comforting. There was still an ever-present nagging worry in the back of Prompto’s mind that one day he'd do or say something that would make Ignis realize that Prompto wasn't good enough for him. 

Remember what we discussed earlier, about being romantic? This is supposed to be fun. With an effort, he pushed the negative thoughts away, but they lingered at the back of his mind. 

Most of the works in the building were paintings, but they also passed through rooms lined with display cases boasting everything from pottery to musical instruments. There were statues and carvings, some of them massive, taking up space in rows along the middle of the long gallery hallways. Prompto took dozens of pictures, makings sure to turn off the flash setting on his camera. He snapped a few photos of Ignis, just for good measure, and made a very corny remark about needing to devote an entire gallery to such a fine work of art. Ignis flushed an interesting shade of crimson, and Prompto barked a laugh that echoed through the room they were in, drawing stares. 

_ Yup, professional fool here, _ Prompto thought with a wince. In the next room he further embarrassed himself by sitting on what he thought was a regular armchair, which briefly set off a very loud alarm. Apparently, it was actually a very detailed sculpture of an armchair, made of metal of all things. With a yelp, he jumped to his feet, the alarm cutting short once the pressure was gone, and glared half-heartedly at a laughing Ignis. “It’s not funny,” he mumbled, “What if they throw me in art jail?” But no security guards came running, and Ignis continued to snicker for several minutes after, which Prompto couldn’t really be upset about. 

“Ah,” Ignis paused suddenly as they entered one of the exhibit rooms. Prompto nearly bumped into him, and Ignis quickly stepped out of the entryway with an apology. “I didn’t realize they had an Afremov exhibit,” he explained, nodding to the right wall where several brightly colored paintings were artfully clustered together. Prompto felt a hand on his back as Ignis guided him closer.

“I haven’t heard of, uh…,” he began, squinting at the little plaque on one of the elegant frames.

“Leonid Afremov,” Ignis supplied. “A modern impressionist. He’s still alive and painting--sells his work over the internet, in fact, and doesn’t usually lend his paintings to museums.”

“He must have made an exception, this time,” Prompto said, letting his eyes rove over the paintings. They were composed of oil-based paints, and they were colorful and distinctive, depicting mostly calm scenery, like city streets and peaceful nature settings. “These are really beautiful,” he said, speaking quietly. Something about being in a museum made him instinctively want to lower his voice--or to try, anyway--though he wasn’t sure if it was out of respect, or simply that he was worried his voice would echo in the cavernous spaces.

“Yes,” was all Ignis said to that. Prompto realized two things then--one, that Ignis’ hand had never left his back, and was just resting against his spine. And two, Ignis’ eyes were on  _ him _ , and not the paintings, his gaze steady and affectionate. 

“Dork,” Prompto scoffed softly, but he couldn’t keep from grinning. He could feel the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, and knew his freckles must be standing out against the color. 

“Come, dearest. I’d like to see this photography exhibit of yours.” Prompto couldn’t say no to that--Ignis could probably ask him to strip naked and streak through the building and Prompto would do it because  _ hot damn, _ the man’s voice did things to him. 

Did Ignis realize, Prompto wondered, how gorgeous his own voice was? Probably not. Six save them all if he ever figured it out.  _ Nah, Iggy would only use his powers for good, _ Prompto thought. Prompto, on the other hand, knew he had a volume control issue at times, and his voice would never approach anything remotely resembling smooth or sensual. 

The central gallery was the busiest room in the museum, Prompto found, but the atmosphere was still calm, peaceful almost. A general susurrus of hushed voices hung in the air, and Prompto immediately moved toward the left wall. He was speaking before could stop himself, his voice coming out in an excited rush. Photography was something he knew, after all. Most art forms followed the same general principles of composition, and he could recognize talent or skill when he saw it. But photography was what always stood out to him--it was a medium he could utilize and understand. 

Ignis, thankfully, seemed content to let Prompto go off on a tangent, listening with apparent rapt attention as Prompto rambled, somewhat breathlessly at times. “Oh, I love these soft-focus shots,” he said, pointing to a line of pictures that was clearly set in a sequence. Each shot depicted a scene on a city street of crowds moving together, almost flowing from frame to frame. “This kinda style is called, uh...pictorialism! It’s used to make a photographic image look more like a painting. It’s kind of old fashioned, but I dig it.” 

“It does convey a gentler imagery,” Ignis mused.

“Yeah! Exactly. Then Ansel Adams came along and said photography should be it’s own thing and shouldn’t try to imitate something else, which I get, but, like, plenty of painters use photo-realism now, so who’s copying who?” Prompto said, gesticulating a bit excessively as he spoke. 

“You make a compelling point,” Ignis said, his eyes following the movements of Prompto’s hands with interest. They were standing closely enough together as they examined the photos that Prompto had an excuse to “accidentally” rest his hand against Ignis’ arm several times. Ignis’ expression said that he knew exactly what Prompto was doing, but he did nothing to put a stop to it, even as they moved on. 

All told, it took them over an hour to move through the room, and they had already been at the museum for an hour before that. Prompto couldn’t quite make himself shut up though, especially after he got going about the use of chiaroscuro, and black and white versus color photography. He finally realized as they reached the last display that Ignis was watching him with a very studious, patient expression that Prompto couldn’t quite read. It was almost like Ignis was analyzing him, and the sudden realization made him nervous all over again. 

_ Oh man, I’ve really been just babbling on this whole time. _ Once he’d started, he’d forgotten all about being embarrassed or making a spectacle of himself. And as much as he wanted to put a sock in it, he realized with a start that he recognized the photos lining the wall by the entrance to the next gallery. 

“Oh, wowzers! These are by, um, what’s his name? Oh, Imago Constantinos,” Prompto said excitedly. 

“That’s a mouthful,” Ignis said.

“Said the man named Ignis Stupeo Scientia,” Prompto teased. 

“How do you know my middle name?” Ignis asked, looking somewhat horrified.

“I just know things,” Prompto said with an innocent shrug.

“Noct told you, didn’t he?” Ignis sighed. There was a betrayed set to his expression, as if Noct had broken some sacred trust between them. 

“Anyway,” Prompto segued back to the topic at hand, ignoring Ignis’ dismay. “This guy just came outta nowhere last year, won this big photo contest that Lucian Geographic was hosting. I think that was the photo that won, actually.” He pointed to a picture of a smoking volcano--the Rock of Ravatogh, he thought it was called, way out on the other side of the country. Prompto was grateful for the distance, even though the volcano wasn’t truly active. It just smoked every once in awhile, and Constantinos had been lucky enough to be nearby the last time it had started rumbling again. 

“Hmm.” Ignis was studying each of the photos in turn--most of them were nature pictures, the kind Prompto was dying to get a chance to try his hand at. Taking pictures of the fat squirrels in his neighborhood didn’t quite satisfy his need to expand his portfolio. “He’s not bad,” Ignis eventually murmured, looking thoughtful.

“Not bad? He’s one of my favorites right now, Iggy,” Prompto said with a laugh. 

Ignis folded an arm over his chest, cupping his elbow with one hand and stroking his chin with the other. “Your photographs are better,” he said. 

Prompto blinked. His heart stuttered, and he felt the blood rushing to his ears. “I, uh, I think you might be a little biased there, Iggy,” he said, laughing again, though this time it was noticeably forced. 

“Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Your pictures are better than his, Prompto. Better than or the equal of any of the work in this room,” Ignis said, and he was using his serious voice now. Not quite stern, but the voice that said “Sorry, but I’m right in this, so there’s no point in arguing.”

Not that Prompto could think of anything to say. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and turned away to try and hide the warring emotions that were rising in his chest, threatening to spill forward. There was no way he was that good. Was there? Ignis wouldn’t lie to him, not about this. Not about something that was so important to Prompto. Not about anything, hopefully. 

He had to swallow before he managed to find his voice. “Do--d’you really mean that?” he whispered, just loud enough for Ignis to hear. A hand clasped his shoulder, and he risked a look over at Ignis. 

“Of course I do,” Ignis said. He certainly looked like he meant it, all no-nonsense, warmth reflected on his handsome features. “You are gifted, and you have the skill and the drive to become even better than you are now.” 

“Oh,” Prompto said, staring up at his boyfriend dumbly. If they weren’t in the middle of a crowded gallery he would have leapt up to kiss him on the mouth.  _ With tongue. Lots of tongue. _ Instead, he just mumbled awkwardly, ignoring the prickle of heat under his skin. “Uh. Thank you. I...Thank you.” 

Ignis mouth tipped sideways into a smirk, like he knew just what Prompto was thinking. “No need to thank me, darling,” he said, low enough that he wouldn’t be heard. 

_ Oh, I’m gonna thank you later, don’t you worry. I’m gonna thank the fuck out of you, and I mean that literally _ , Prompto thought. He wanted to believe Ignis, after all. More than anything, Prompto wanted his photos to hang in a gallery like this someday, where snobby art kids could stop by and comment on his use of lighting. Or maybe, just maybe, somebody would look at his work and tell the people they were with that Prompto Argentum was their favorite artist.

x

It was nearly dinnertime when they finally stepped back through the front doors of the museum, and Prompto’s camera battery was about to die. He turned it off, and tucked it safely away in its bag where it would be safe, and then reached up with both arms to stretch. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Ignis staring, and cheekily pursed his lips in a kissing motion at the other man. Predictably, Ignis colored slightly and looked away, and Prompto snickered. 

“You’re too easy,” he said.

“Does that mean you’ll stop teasing me?” Ignis asked as they started down the grand stone steps.

“Maybe. If you stop teasing me first,” Prompto said. 

“No. I can’t. The price is too high,” Ignis sighed, and Prompto laughed again, more boisterously, and several people shot him withering looks that he ignored. Why were so many of these serious artsy types so allergic to fun? 

By tacit agreement, they began walking along a path that wound back around to the side of the building, where Ignis had parked his car. Prompto grasped the strap of his camera bag with both hands in an effort to keep them from trying to grab Ignis’ hand, or his arm (or his ass). Something in him felt energized, even more than usual, and he practically bounced alongside his boyfriend as they walked.

Ignis noticed, of course, but he didn’t comment on it, just smiled at Prompto’s antics. “Thank you for today, by the way,” he said. “I greatly enjoyed myself.”

“Even though I wouldn’t shut up?” Prompto asked brightly.

“I found your running commentary much more entertaining and enlightening than that of any of the tour guides we passed,” Ignis said.

“Well, I aims to please,” Prompto told him, feeling rather pleased himself. “Oh, hey!” He pointed as they rounded the corner of the building; the parking lot became visible, but so did a large marble slab embedded in a sign and engraved with the museum name and logo. “Come take a picture with me in front of this sign, Iggy!”

He half-expected Ignis to beg off. They didn’t have any pictures with just the two of them, though Prompto had demanded plenty of group selfies with his friends over the years. He only regretted that his camera was dead, but his phone camera was decent enough. Thankfully, he sensed Ignis trailing behind him as he made his way over to the sign. 

“Okay, come stand, uh, here,” Prompto said, pulling on Ignis’ arm to position him, like Ignis didn’t know how to pose for a picture. Holding up his phone, he reversed the camera to selfie mode then extended the device to an arm’s length as Ignis settled up behind him. It took a moment to get the sign in the shot, and it still wasn’t entirely visible, but he and Ignis both were. When he was more or less satisfied with the angle, he leaned back ever-so-slightly into Ignis’ chest. His boyfriend’s arm was around him, and nobody would question it--they were just two buds taking a selfie together.

“All right, on three, say ‘Prompto is my personal hero,’” Prompto said, and he saw the flash of amusement on Ignis’ face on the screen, and something else. Something mischievous that made Prompto’s tummy flutter. He licked his lips, and let himself grin, counting slowly. “And...three!” he said, and just as his thumb tapped the capture button, he felt--and saw--Ignis turn and press his lips to Prompto’s cheek. 

Sputtering, Prompto nearly dropped his phone. “Iggy!” he cried, sounding far more scandalized than he felt. He fumbled with his phone, tapping rapidly at the gallery icon until he got the picture to pop up, and he thought he might burst into tears when he saw it. “Ignis, that was adorable, you unbelievable jerk!” 

Ignis didn’t look sorry. He looked smug, and he had every right to. The picture was...it was perfect. Ignis Godsdamned Scientia was  _ perfect _ . 

“Let me see,” he said, leaning over Prompto’s shoulder to get a peek at his phone screen. Prompto could see the smirk on Ignis’ mouth in the picture, even as he pressed his lips to Prompto’s skin. And Prompto himself was just grinning, goofy and carefree in the moment before he realized his boyfriend had snaked a kiss. 

“You’re breaking your own rule, y’know,” Prompto said as he smiled down at the photo. “Someone coulda seen us. There could be a paparazzo running off to his editor right now with a picture of you slobbering all over me in broad daylight.”

Ignis hummed in agreement. “There could be. That wouldn’t be my ideal way of coming out to the public, but I couldn’t resist.” 

Prompto drew in a breath, and tapped on the photo so he could set it as his background image. “Do you have to go back to work tonight?” he asked, unable to keep the edge of hope out of his voice.

“Actually, no,” Ignis said. “It was the oddest thing. Noctis marched into my office as I was getting ready to come meet you and said I was to take the rest of today off.”

“What? Really?” Prompto said. He’d mentioned that he was taking Ignis out on a date that afternoon, but Noct had just grunted in reply. Prompto breathed out a laugh. “I can’t believe him. He whines about us snuggling, but lets us use his spare room and makes sure we won’t be interrupted on our date. What a sap.” 

“Noct loathes bureaucracy, but he will do anything for a friend,” Ignis said. “When I left him he was arguing with the minister of finance about allocating funds to the hunter brigades outside the wall.” 

“I bet I can tell you who won that argument, “Prompto said. Noct was nothing if not stubborn, but he could be diplomatic if the occasion called for it.  _ He’s also the best friend a guy could ask for, probably the best friend in the world, in fact. _ Prompto knew he couldn’t expect this every time he and Ignis went out, but knowing Ignis wouldn’t be unexpectedly called away tonight made something loosen in his chest. 

“Well...I’m kinda hungry. Why don’t we grab a bite?” Prompto suggested.

Ignis gave him a sidelong look and patted him on the shoulder before moving away, headed for his car. “I’ve an even better idea. Are your parents home tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Afremov is a real dude and his paintings are very pretty but holy shit so expensive. I read his bio, though, and he deserves to charge people as much as he wants. I picked his art by googling “famous paintings” and then picked the prettiest one I saw and that’s how Marley does research.
> 
> Constantinos is not a real dude, because I didn’t want to compare a real photographer to a fictional one. 
> 
> If any of my art explanations are not good it's because I used wikipedia and I've never taken a formal art class in my life.
> 
> (it's so hot out rn)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I blame the sun. Think I might move to Alaska. I might get my ass kicked by a moose but at least it won’t be hot. 
> 
> ALso, please note that if I ever repeat myself in this fic or mess up any details it’s because I don’t remember what I wrote. I should really reread the whole thing but I’ll probably just see all my mistakes which isn’t good for morale. 
> 
> (work still sucks but i’m on vacation. a good portion of this chapter was written while listening to Britney Spears/90s music, then i watched Car Boys while i was editing, which isn’t important but i wanted you to know)

Ignis apparently realized how the question sounded almost as soon as it was out of his mouth. His eyes widened and he turned toward Prompto, hands raised in a placating gesture, and began to babble. “I only ask because I wouldn’t wish to disturb them, and I’m not certain if you’re ready for me to meet your parents regardless--,”

“They shouldn’t be home until tomorrow sometime,” Prompto interjected, smirking as he kept pace with a flustered Ignis. _How can such a sexy badass be so adorable?_

Ignis took in a breath, clearly relieved, though he looked sheepish as well. _Probably embarrassed for losing his composure,_ Prompto reasoned, _he’s so used to having it together._

“In that case, if your kitchen is free, why don’t I make us dinner?” Ignis asked as they reached his car. Like a true gentleman, he opened the passenger door for Prompto, and guided Prompto closer with a gentle hand between his shoulder blades.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Prompto said, pausing as he lifted one foot to climb into the car. He noticed too late that he was caught between Ignis and the vehicle now, and it would have been an excellent opportunity for another stolen kiss.

“I insist,” Ignis said, pinning Prompto with a look that said he was thinking the same thing.

“Well...all right,” Prompto said slowly. “But only if you actually let me help this time!”

Ignis smiled, and smoothed his hand from Prompto’s back to run down his arm. “Deal.” His hand lingered for a long moment near Prompto’s wrist, his palm warm and slightly calloused. Prompto swallowed so hard he could hear the muscles clench in his throat. He hoped his heart always fluttered when Ignis touched him, no matter how long they were together.

Wordlessly, Ignis let go of him without making a move, and Prompto hastily dropped into the passenger seat. _Right. We’re in a public parking lot. No kissing where someone might see._

The door swung shut when he was settled, and a moment later Ignis had circled the car and was climbing in behind the steering wheel. He made a surprised noise when Prompto leaned over, practically climbing into his lap again to kiss him. Immediately, Prompto took advantage of the little gasp to lick into Ignis’ mouth, flicking their tongues together and swiping his over Ignis’ lower lip. At the same time, he not-so-subtly slid his hand up Ignis’ inner thigh, stopping just short of his crotch and _squeezing._ And then he pulled back almost as quickly, before Ignis could respond.

Ignis blinked at Prompto as he sat back in his seat and buckled himself in, a touch of heat in his green eyes. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice pitched an octave lower than usual.

Shrugging with a casualness he didn't feel, Prompto said, “Just ‘cause.”

“‘Just ‘cause,’” Ignis echoed flatly, unconvinced.

“Yeah. I wanted to kiss you. Is that a crime?” Prompto asked, trying to feign innocence. He hadn't forgotten his silent promise from earlier, to thank Ignis for being so sweet to him. Making sure Ignis didn’t forget either was just the first step in Prompto’s master plan.

By the look on Ignis’ face, Prompto wasn't fooling anyone with his nonchalant act. In fact, it looked for a moment like Ignis was considering jumping Prompto right there in the car. Prompto knew that if that happened he'd be powerless to resist--he was weak, and this was Ignis, and Prompto was always down to fuck when it came to Ignis, _who cares if we're in a public parking lot, the windows are tinted, nobody will know._

Instead of climbing over and mauling Prompto, however, Ignis just smiled slowly, knowingly-- _holy shit, that's not fair_ \--and started the car.

_Ok, the plan might be backfiring a little,_ Prompto thought as he shifted in his seat. While that wasn't exactly a bad thing, he'd at least like to get home before his pants started feeling too tight.

“Is there a grocer's in your neighborhood, darling?” Ignis asked, distracting Prompto from his thoughts as they pulled out onto the main road. “There are a few items we'll need to pick up.”

x

Prompto felt oddly giddy about going grocery shopping with Ignis. It was the same feeling he’d had getting ready in the morning the other day, the simple pleasure of experiencing something casually intimate and domestic. Although, Prompto quickly discovered that there was nothing “casual” about the way Ignis shopped for something to make for dinner.

“You don't have to always make spicy food,” Prompto informed Ignis as the man scrutinized the labels on two nearly identical jars of chilli powder. “I like other stuff. Like hot dogs.”

Ignis leveled him with a look of utter disdain, which was probably to be expected. Prompto laughed at his boyfriend’s blatant indignation as Ignis shook his head. “Six preserve me,” he muttered, deciding on one of the jars. The victor went into their shopping basket, and the other was returned to the shelf.

The small market near Prompto’s house didn't have much in the way of high end ingredients, not that it seemed to matter. Ignis had some kind of sixth sense about fresh produce or something; Prompto trailed around behind him, mystified, as Ignis tapped on vegetables and carefully examined ingredients, rejecting or accepting each item based on criteria Prompto couldn't fathom. Years of shopping for Noct must have fine-tuned Ignis’ abilities, Prompto figured. The royal advisor would want to ensure that the prince ate like...well, ate like a prince. _I hope Noct knows how lucky he is to have Iggy looking out for him_.

As Ignis shopped, Prompto kept himself entertained by trying to sneak extra things into the shopping basket, including but not limited to: cookies, a jar of garlic pickles (“I’ll not be kissing you if you eat those,” Ignis said, and Prompto reluctantly put them back), a box of Poptarts, and a DVD from the discount bin (“Weekend at Bernie’s is a classic, Iggy,” he said in his own defense). Ignis pretended not to notice most of the items that appeared in the basket, though Prompto knew he wasn’t being very subtle about his additions.

At least Ignis seemed to be enjoying himself; there was a suggestion of a smile at the corners of his mouth as Prompto hovered at his side as he shopped, and regaled him with stories.

“I just wanted _one_ Reeses cup,” Prompto said, walking backward alongside Ignis down the small adult beverage aisle, “They used to sell loose candy in these little bins up by the registers, right. But my mom told me no, and I got all mad, so I had the bright idea of stuffing one in my little overalls pocket. Y’know, the one on the chest, and I had like a little chocobo embroidered on it, because I’m me. And I thought I was being so slick, like I’d gotten away with some big heist. Only _then_ I forgot I had put the candy in there, and my mom found it the next day when she went to do laundry. There was melted chocolate on _everything_ , and I got super grounded. I cried like a baby because I felt so guilty.”

Ignis snickered into his fist, clearly trying to hold back his laughter. “And they let a hardened criminal like you into the Crownsguard?” he asked.

Prompto stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend. “Well, I was, like, five, and I never stole anything again. And my mom decided not to turn me in for grand theft candy.”

“How gracious of her,” Ignis chuckled.

Not long after that Ignis declared that they had everything they needed, and began to guide Prompto to the front of the store, keeping careful watch to make sure Prompto didn’t get distracted for the millionth time. It was a worthy effort, but Prompto immediately began perusing the display racks by the registers.

Ignis arched an eyebrow--how did he manage to look a thousand percent hotter when he did that?--when Prompto tried to surreptitiously drop a yo-yo into the basket. “What?” Prompto asked with a grin, huddled close to Ignis in the narrow register lane. There were only a few people in front of them, so they wouldn’t have long to wait, but Prompto found himself rocking back and forth on his heels anyway.

“You're twenty years old,” Ignis said, brow furrowed. There was a definite hint of a smile beneath his mock consternation, though.

“So? A guy can't enjoy a nice yo-yo?” Prompto said, glad for the tight space. They were close enough that Prompto could feel the warmth radiating from Ignis’ body and count the cute little freckles on the back of his neck.

Ignis made a long-suffering noise. “You're lucky I like you,” he said with exasperation, and Prompto’s grin stretched at the corners.

“You can get one, too, y’know. Being a grown up doesn’t mean you have to be boring,” Prompto stage whispered, giving Ignis a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Oh, so I’m boring now?” Ignis asked imperiously.

“Totally dull,” Prompto teased. “A real snooze.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ignis said, his voice lowered for Prompto’s ears alone. His hand moved covertly, trailing fingers down Prompto’s bare forearm once more, causing delicious chills to race across his skin. The people in front of them finished up with their purchase and moved out of the way, and Ignis stepped up to the register, expression smoothed to neutrality. _Oh, you sexy jerk. I guess I did start it, but come on. That’s just...not fair!_

Then again, everything about Ignis wasn’t fair. Well, almost everything. Some wonderful force in the universe had to be working in their favor to have allowed them to come together the way they had. Prompto had somehow wound up with a boyfriend who was gorgeous, funny, smart, and really good at kissing and touching _and gods I can’t wait to get him alone_. Prompto was going to make up for all this mutual teasing, level the playing field as it were.

They had a brief argument at the register over who should pay for the groceries. “Today was my idea, Iggy,” Prompto said, only for Ignis to counter, “Yes, but I insisted on making dinner.” Prompto relented in the end, if only because he was still a fairly short on funds, and because there was a line gathering behind them.

“Oh, don’t pout, dear,” Ignis said once they were in the parking lot, “You can pay for dinner next time if you wish.”

“I’m not pouting,” Prompto said, knowing full well that he definitely was pouting. _I’m never gonna be rich enough to buy him nice things._ Ignis could afford to buy himself whatever he wanted, though. And Prompto knew money wasn’t what was important and all that, and he knew Ignis didn’t care that Prompto was broke, or else why were they going out? If something like that bothered Ignis, something like Prompto being a commoner with no money... _Then he would never have asked me out in the first place. Iggy’s not that shallow. Don’t freak yourself out over this, all he did was buy groceries._

“Everything all right, darling?” Ignis asked, and Prompto realized they had gotten back to the car, and that he’d climbed into the passenger seat without even realizing it. Ignis was studying him with slightly raised brows, and Prompto wondered if he’d had that pensive look on his face that he got when he was overthinking something.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, giving Ignis a smile that he hoped was reassuring. “Just thinking too hard.”

“Better than not thinking at all,” Ignis said, his own smile mirroring Prompto’s. Prompto snorted, and held his hand out. Ignis let him lace their fingers together, leaving their hands joined for the short ride to Prompto’s house.

x

There had been plenty of times over the years when Prompto had watched Ignis cook dinner, but he’d rarely ever been allowed to help. The last time had been at Noct’s apartment all those months ago, when Ignis had had him puree vegetables to slip into Noct’s food. It had been a little conspiracy between the two of them, an inside joke born partially of exasperation.

Cooking dinner with him that night was very different, both simple and cozy with just the two of them. Ignis was making a spicy seafood stir fry, and he set Prompto to chopping vegetables while he mixed up a sauce.

“It’s been awhile since I cooked anything,” Prompto informed him, trying to pay close attention to what his hands were doing so he didn’t wind up cutting his fingers. A trip to the emergency room was not the way he wanted this evening to end.

“Well, good thing for both of us that I’m here,” Ignis deadpanned. Prompto made a face at him, which Ignis ignored.

“I taught myself to cook, y’know,” Prompto said, “I didn’t have any fancy ingredients or recipes, either. Just whatever I could afford with the money my parents left me.”

“You had to fend for yourself often?” Ignis asked him softly. Prompto looked up from the vegetables he was chopping, and saw that Ignis was pointedly measuring chilli powder into the sauce he was simmering on the stove.

Prompto considered the question before he answered. People tended to get the wrong idea about his parents sometimes, and Prompto didn’t want Ignis to go around thinking he was some poor, neglected, latch-key kid.

“I guess. I mean, it wasn’t _always_ like that. They spent tons of time with me when I was little. But then when I got older they both started working more hours to help make ends meet. ‘Cause I didn’t need them to be home all the time, y’know?” he explained.

“That must have been lonely,” Ignis ventured.

Prompto frowned and turned his attention back to the vegetables he’d been chopping. Green and yellow peppers, zucchini and onions and tomatoes.

“Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “Like I said, they left me money to buy food. I think they felt bad for leaving me on my own so much, so they never said anything when I, er, wound up going overboard on junk. But they always tried to make it up to me in other ways, y’know. I never felt like they didn’t care about me.”

This wasn’t the sort of conversation he’d imagined having with his boyfriend once they were finally alone. Ignis must have sensed that the mood was changing, though, because Prompto felt a hand slip around his shoulders, and then a kiss was being pressed to his temple.

“Darling, what exactly are you doing to those vegetables?” Ignis asked. Prompto couldn’t tell if he’d meant to change the subject so abruptly, or if the dismay in his voice was genuine.

“Uh, chopping them?” Prompto said, glancing up at Ignis over his shoulder. His boyfriend was shaking his head, tsking.

“More like mangling them. Here.” With a smoothness that was probably illegal in some countries, Ignis saddled up behind Prompto, sliding arms around his middle and loosely grasping his wrists. “I’ll show you how to chop properly.”

Prompto had to bite his lip, and only just barely managed to hold back a giggle. “Wow. Are you really doing this?” he asked as Ignis began guiding his hands.

“Mmm-hm,” Ignis hummed in his ear. “Pick up the knife.”

Prompto shook his head, and did as he was told. “Dork. I can’t believe this,” he muttered.

“Shush. I’m attempting to be charming,” Ignis said, lips brushing against Prompto’s ear, the tickling sensation of his breath sending shivers across Prompto’s skin.

“It’s not working,” Prompto lied. Ignis didn’t have to _try_ to be charming, after all. He oozed charm out of his pores, which actually sounded kinda gross. _Glad I didn’t say that one out loud._

“Lies. You are swooning--I can tell. Now, _this_ is how you chop things. See how the pieces are all evenly sliced with no jagged edges?”

“Are you mocking my chopping? I feel like I should be offended.”

“I said shush.”

Between the two of them, they managed to get the vegetables properly sliced and diced and added to the pan. Prompto was given stirring duties, and he watched the pan like a hawk until the sauce had thickened and the veggies were tender. Ignis had to check the shrimp, as Prompto had never successfully made any kind of seafood dish aside from tuna sandwiches. He felt like an amateur with Ignis hovering nearby, pouring drinks--cheap grocery store “champagne,” which was kind of ridiculous considering Ignis could probably afford the good stuff. Prompto imagined Ignis probably did things like attend wine tastings at country clubs, and attended polo matches, and whatever else high society types did for fun. Cheap booze seemed beneath him. _Then again, so am I._

The champagne must have passed muster, though, because Ignis was handing Prompto a glass and shooing him back from the stove. Prompto took a sip of the bubbly liquid, but he didn't know enough about champagne to tell the difference between good or gross. Ignis set his own glass on the counter and gave the pan a stir. With much more interest than was strictly necessary, Prompto watched his boyfriend raise the wooden spoon to his mouth so he could sample the sauce.

“How's it taste?” he heard his own dumb mouth ask as something in his belly gave a little jolt. Watching Ignis lick sauce off of his lips was...damn.

Ignis was either not paying attention or playing some kinda mean game, because he gave the pan another stir and then turned the burner off. “Here,” he said, lifting the spoon again and cupping his hand under it, expression placid. Prompto realized what Ignis wanted him to do and felt his head spin a little. This whole evening was so cutesy, another impossible real life romantic comedy scene. _I guess I'm a sucker for mush then._

Prompto gave in, accepting the sweet reality of his life. He leaned in to taste the sauce, using the closeness as an excuse to reach up and grip Ignis’ hand, bringing the spoon to his lips. Whatever Ignis’ intent had been, he clearly understood what Prompto was up to when he made a show of slowly running his tongue along the rim of the spoon.

“Mmph, not bad,” Prompto said, trying to play things off nonchalantly. The sauce was fantastic, of course, a sort of subtle spicy sweet that Prompto could never pull off. Whenever Prompto cooked for himself he always added enough hot sauce to melt the taste buds off a normal person. Ignis was an expert, though; he managed to blend the heat with the other flavors without overwhelming the palate.

“‘Not bad?’” Ignis echoed, his eyes focused on Prompto’s mouth, on the way Prompto let his tongue flick out over his own lips.

_Better rein it it before we wind up skipping dinner altogether,_ Prompto thought. He was sure Ignis had to know by now that the night wasn't going to end with Prompto kissing him on the cheek and sending him on his way. The idea of dragging Ignis off to bed right then and there was a tempting one, but Prompto was actually really hungry.

They sat together at the table in the small dining area next to the kitchen. Prompto rarely took his meals there, usually preferring to eat in the living room so he could watch TV. In fact, he was certain that the last time he'd eaten in this room was that night weeks ago when both of his parents had been home. They hadn’t all been together like that since, and probably wouldn’t be again for months.

What would his parents make of Ignis, he wondered. They had never had a chance to meet Ignis before, though they must have gotten glimpses of him on occasion when he had driven Prompto home or stopped by to pick him up. They would like him, wouldn't they? Prompto was of the opinion now that it was impossible not to like Ignis, but he had the privilege of knowing the real Ignis, the man behind the stern Royal Advisor.

There was the tiny issue of Prompto’s sexuality, of course. He'd never come out to his parents, per se, but he wasn't exactly subtle, either. They wouldn't be upset that he was dating a man, he was sure. In fact, he was fairly positive that at one point his mom had thought he was secretly in love with Noct. There had been a very awkward instance of her spontaneously giving him a refresher course on the sex talk one night when he'd been getting ready to head to Noct’s apartment for the weekend. He'd listened, confused and mortified, waiting until she'd finished to bolt out the door with a shouted “Love you, bye!” It hadn't been until much later that evening that Prompto had put two and two together and he'd laughed so hard he'd cried in Noct’s living room.

A gentle touch on the back of his hand interrupted his thoughts. “What’s that smirk about?” Ignis asked, his hand closing over Prompto’s where it rested on the table. They sat adjacent to each other, and Prompto realized they'd been eating in silence for several minutes.

Prompto considered asking then and there if Ignis would like to meet his parents. The words were poised to barge out of his mouth, and he quickly shoved them back with a mouthful of spicy vegetables. Too soon, he shouted at himself. At this rate, he was going to scare Ignis off with all of the things he wanted to say.

He'd done it before, stupidly blurting “I love you,” to the first boy he'd ever dated after only a week and a half. Said boy had nervously laughed the moment off, and then had proceeded to not answer any of Prompto’s calls or texts after that night. Prompto liked to tell himself that he'd just been young and eager for affection, not to mention fresh out of a much longer relationship. He ignored the fact that he'd been eighteen at the time, and the incident had happened less than two years ago.

After that whole debacle he'd tried to be a lot more careful about talking about his feelings. Of course, he'd realized since then that he wasn’t necessarily falling in love with someone just because they were nice to him for a while.

He started when he felt fingertips brush the side of his face. Ignis paused a moment, then finished tucking the fringe of hair back behind Prompto’s ear.

“Are you certain that everything is all right?” he asked gently, and Prompto realized he'd never answered Ignis’ last question. “Usually you're talking my ear off while we eat.” The words were teasing, but there was also concern there.

_Stupid. Quit spacing out!_

“Sorry,” Prompto said, managing a small, contrite smile. “Just keep getting lost in thought.”

“Ah. Is there any particular subject you’re dwelling on?” Ignis asked.

“Mmm,” Prompto hummed, looking down with surprise at his empty plate. When had he finished eating? “Just about today. I had a lot of fun.”

It was an honest statement, if a lot less direct than he wanted to be. Ignis’ hand dropped down to his wrist again, the motion pressing Prompto’s bracelets gently into his skin.

“So did I,” Ignis said. “Shall we clear away the dishes?”

The question was abrupt, but Prompto thought he could sense the intent behind it. Dinner was over and Ignis wanted to move things along, but he was a stickler for cleanliness.

“I can clean up,” Prompto automatically volunteered, though he hated doing the dishes. “You cooked. And you're a guest.”

Ignis waved off his protests, and in the end he got his way, though they did compromise. He washed while Prompto dried--or rather, Ignis washed and surreptitiously blew soap suds at Prompto’s head whenever Prompto was distracted. Apparently Prompto’s noises of protest and frantic hair neatening were incredibly entertaining. _He's lucky I have hat-hair today._

“I take it back,” Prompto faux fumed as he stacked the last of the dishes in the drying rack. “You're not fun, and also? The shrimp was overcooked.”

“And you are terribly rude,” Ignis said, even as he snaked an arm around Prompto’s waist from the side, drawing him closer. “Do you have any other insults for me?”

The question came out in what Prompto would call a purr. He could feel Ignis’ breath stirring the hair against the side of his head, and did a poor job of pretending to be unaffected by it.

“You're too handsome,” Prompto said, “It's really distracting. How am I sposta become an elite Crownsguard when you're always hovering nearby smoldering?”

Ignis burst out laughing. “I do _not_ \--No, you are utterly ridiculous. I refuse to even argue with you,” he said with a snort. Prompto was satisfied with the response, though. He turned so they were facing, and Ignis’ arm stayed firmly wrapped around him.

“Good. ‘Cause I'm right,” Prompto said. Then he slid his arms up around Ignis’ neck and pulled him down until their lips met.

The kiss was playful to start. Both of them were grinning, and neither bothered to deepen it, delivering only teasing brushes of lips and light nibbling. Prompto sighed through his nose, and rested himself fully against Ignis’ taller frame. He felt like he'd been waiting forever for this. Spending a whole day with Ignis without getting to touch him had to count as cruel and unusual punishment, right?

“Hey,” he whispered against Ignis’ mouth. “I wanna tell you something.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Ignis asked. He kissed the corner of Prompto’s mouth, then his chin, and backed him against the countertop.

Prompto tilted his head, pulling Ignis down so he could murmur directly into his ear. “I like you,” he whispered, like it was a secret. Ignis snickered, and then Prompto was gasping and tightening his arms around Ignis’ shoulders as he was lifted unexpectedly and set down on the kitchen counter. Now they were at eye level, and Prompto could see the minor crinkling at the corners of Ignis’ eyes as he smiled.

“Convenient, seeing as I happen to feel the same way,” Ignis said. “The evening might have gotten a bit awkward otherwise.”

In lieu of giving an actual answer, Prompto kissed him again, shifting to the edge of the counter so he could pull Ignis’ hips in between his legs. Now he did deepen the kiss, and Ignis complied, parting his lips when Prompto tried slipping his tongue past them. Not for the first time, Ignis seemed perfectly content to let Prompto have free rein, responding to each motion of Prompto’s mouth and tongue without trying to wrest control away. Even when Prompto nipped at the bow of Ignis’ upper lip, tugging it between his teeth, Ignis just groaned softly and gripped Prompto beneath the thighs, hiking him up closer. With more than a touch of satisfaction, Prompto noted the bulge now pressed between his legs.

“You know I haven’t forgotten your teasing in the car earlier,” Ignis told him as Prompto turned to trail kisses across one of his high cheekbones. “I really ought to exact some sort of revenge.”

_Oh. Oh boy. That could be fun._ If Ignis wanted to take over then Prompto was more than happy to let him.

“If you think it’s best,” Prompto said, glad that their bodies were flush together so Ignis could feel him shiver. He pressed a few nibbling kisses down along Ignis’ jaw, feeling Ignis’ chest expand shortly against his, though he couldn’t tell if it was laughter or a hitching gasp.

One of Ignis’ hands slid up Prompto’s back then, slipping up his neck until it cupped the side of his head. Prompto immediately nuzzled into Ignis’ palm, but then his face was being turned and his mouth was captured in another lingering kiss.

When he really got going Ignis was less of a teasing kisser than Prompto; he tended to go for the deep, dizzying kisses that stole the air out of Prompto’s lungs and made him see stars. Ignis’ tongue explored, probing deep, and his lips were deliciously soft and commanding, leaving little room for thought.

They only broke apart, gasping for air, when Prompto rolled his hips forward, seeking friction against his rapidly growing arousal. “Gods, Iggy,” he panted. “Shit.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ignis murmured wryly. His hands slipped up from Prompto’s thighs, rested on his hips for a moment as he planted kisses along the bridge of Prompto’s nose and across his freckled cheeks.

Prompto sucked in another breath, a soft noise, as he felt fingertips tease up beneath the hem of his shirt. For a moment he just froze, then his hands were on Ignis’, holding him still. “Iggy--wait, I…” He paused to swallow, and realized Ignis was looking at him with a worried expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, letting his arms go limp in Prompto’s grasp.

“I…,” Prompto was at a loss. He’d wanted the evening to go in this direction, but for some reason he’d just assumed that by the time they got to the naked parts they’d be in a dark room where Ignis couldn’t see him.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked, and now the concern was prominent. A hand tugged loose from Prompto’s grip and settled beneath his chin, tilting his head up. He hadn’t even realized he’d lowered his gaze, brow furrowed as he frowned at Ignis’ exposed collar bone. “Darling, what is it?”

The realization that Ignis thought he’d done something wrong was what spurred Prompto to answer. Ignis would never intentionally do something to upset him. Prompto couldn’t stand the thought that Ignis was worried he’d crossed a line.

“It’s just that, I, ah…,” Prompto squirmed, unintentionally causing friction that made them both quiver. “Um...I have stretch marks, Iggy. I just...I was worried…” He couldn’t say the words. They sounded so dumb in his head, and he tried to look away again but Ignis still held his chin--and his gaze--firmly.

“Is that all?” Ignis asked, his tone so soft that Prompto could only manage vague surprise rather than incredulity.

“Uh, yeah?” he answered stupidly.

“And you were worried that I would...what? Suddenly find you repulsive?” Prompto winced at that, and Ignis’ expression turned apologetic. “Forgive me, dearest. Poor choice of words.” He thumbed Prompto’s chin, and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “Prompto, please rest assured that I won’t think any less of you for your perceived imperfections. I want to see all of you, if you’ll let me.”

Well. Shit. Prompto felt his heart stutter, and he had to swallow past a knot in his throat. “But...they’re ugly, Iggy,” he whispered.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Ignis said. There was something steadfast in his voice, something inarguable. After a moment he pulled back, leaving just an inch of space between them, enough room for Prompto to breathe and collect himself. He bit his lip, and searched Ignis’ expression for any sign of...He didn’t even know. Ignis’ didn’t really have any reason to lie about this.

Summoning all of his courage, Prompto reached up and hooked his thumbs beneath the collar of his shirt, and after a moment’s hesitation, pulled it up and over his head. Without thinking, he let the shirt fall where it would, and then pulled Ignis in close again, almost cleaving to him as his nerves stretched taut.

“You won’t stare at them, right?” he whispered.

“Promise,” Ignis said, and he kissed the top of Prompto’s head. A hand smoothed against his back, Ignis’ palm warm against his bare flesh in a way that felt intimate in a more emotional capacity than Prompto was expecting.

“Can we go to my room, now?” Prompto asked, feeling a little strange to be shirtless and wrapped around his boyfriend in his parents’ kitchen. Ignis stepped back, keeping his eyes on Prompto’s and holding his hand out. Loosing a breath, Prompto smiled and took the proffered hand.

x

Prompto didn’t remember to be nervous about letting his boyfriend into his room until he was leading Ignis by the hand down the hallway. _Shit. Did I pick up my laundry this morning?_ He was furiously drawing a blank, and realized his palms were sweating. _Please, Past Me. Please just do me this solid and let my room be clean._

He normally kept his door shut, which added an extra layer of suspense to strain Prompto’s already strained nerves. When he turned the knob and swung the door open he was greatly relieved to see that there was nothing on the floor, though the cover was open on his hamper, and his bed wasn’t made, and...and…

Ignis’ hand closed over his shoulder, and Prompto leaned into the touch without intending to. He remembered he was shirtless, exposed, and kind of chilly now that he thought about it. Ignis was a warm presence behind him, in more ways than one.

“Uh, sorry about all...well,” Prompto said, stepping over the threshold and tugging Ignis in behind him before shutting and locking the door. The floor might have been clean but now that Prompto was really looking he saw that his desk was a disorganized disaster--stacks of glossy photos produced by his own mini photo printer laid waiting to be organized into his portfolio, and there were so many pens and post-its scattered around his laptop.

There was more to be embarrassed about than his messy desk. His room was almost like a shrine to his entire life up to that point--there were the glowy stars up on his ceiling, and action figures lined his shelves. There were the stuffed animals on his bed that he couldn’t bear to part with, and old posters still hung up on his wall, and hadn’t he been worried about all this ages ago? Ignis was going to think he was dating an immature loser who couldn’t let go of his childhood and still lived with his parents.

“Ah, I remember this.” Ignis apparently hadn’t been paying attention to Prompto’s internal crisis. He’d left Prompto by the door, and was standing in front of the floor length mirror on the wall, leaning in close to look at one of the photos pasted to the glass. With a sinking feeling of horror, Prompto folded his arms over his chest, hugging himself, and shuffled over.

“O-oh, that,” he said with a tense laugh. Prompto still occasionally took pictures of himself in front of the mirror, to compare to older pictures and make sure he wasn’t gaining w-- _Don’t go there right now, okay?_

The mirror he’d used to judge himself in had become something else since Prompto had befriended Noct. At some point he’d begun sticking pictures to it, mostly of him and Noct at first, but the collection had slowly expanded to encompass everyone he knew. Ignis, of course, Gladio, Noct, all four of them together, selfies of Prompto with Gladio’s little sister, with Prompto’s own parents, and then there were shots that Prompto just really liked. Most were of scenery, but a few were of people, or, well, one person in particular. And that person was currently studying one of Prompto’s favorite pictures of him.

The lighting in the picture was too stark, but Ignis had looked so beautifully disheveled on the train that morning that Prompto had decided it was worth not only holding onto, but printing out so that he could look at it whenever he wanted.

“How long have you had this hanging up?” Ignis asked, a sly little ring to the question.

“Oh, uh, haha,” Prompto said, shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. “Since before I tried to drunkenly make out with you.”

“Ah.” Ignis straightened, and Prompto hugged himself even more tightly. “I do wish we’d both come to our senses a bit sooner.”

“Well, I had to be drunk before I could work up the nerve to say something,” Prompto huffed, feeling a twinge of guilt for that. “I mean, I had already planned to say something, but then…” He shrugged, and stared down at his feet.

“I am grateful for that night, you know,” Ignis said. He stepped into Prompto’s personal bubble, reached up with one of those elegant hands of his and tucked a stray wisp of hair back behind Prompto’s ear. Prompto watched the motion through his eyelashes, and only looked up when he felt Ignis move in to kiss the space between Prompto’s jaw and ear.

“Me too,” Prompto whispered. He was grateful for every minute he got to spend with Ignis, grateful that Ignis had deigned to even take a second glance at him. With a renewed sense of confidence, he slowly let his arms drop away, sliding one hand up Ignis’ chest over the soft fabric of his polo shirt. With the other he guided Ignis’ free hand to rest on his waist, and sighed as he felt the hand smooth over his bare skin, moving to his back to pull him in closer as Ignis kissed down his neck.

Prompto leaned his head back invitingly, but Ignis wasn’t quite worked up enough to mark him again. The kisses he left were sweet and petal soft, tasting rather than devouring, and Prompto couldn’t decide which of those he preferred. Horny, commanding Ignis was exciting, but this gentle treatment filled Prompto with a lightness and warmth that he’d never felt with anyone else.

“Hey,” he said, letting his hand move lower, sneaking toward Ignis’ waist and the hem of his shirt. “Off with the shirt already. I’m feelin’ a little singled out here.”

Ignis smiled against his skin and pulled back a step. “Go on, then,” he said, and Prompto didn’t waste any time yanking his shirt up and over his head, giggling as Ignis bent and slipped the piece of clothing off of his arms. They let it fall to the floor, and Prompto took a moment to try and remember how to breathe.

“Fuck, Iggy,” he said, realizing he sounded like an idiot and not caring. Ignis was all lean muscle layered under smooth, unblemished skin. When he moved, scooping Prompto against his chest, there was an understated strength to him that was usually lost beneath his layers of clothing. His skin was deliciously hot, and Prompto took a moment to simply drink in that body heat, letting Ignis hold him. He rested his cheek against Ignis’ collar bone, and ran his hands appreciatively up and down Ignis’ sides. The muscle tone actually made his mouth water, and he had to swallow to keep from literally drooling all over his boyfriend.

After a few minutes Prompto finally stepped back, reluctant to leave the sheltered warmth of Ignis’ embrace for even a moment. He glanced over at his bed, glad all over again that he’d changed his sheets the other day to a plain blue set. _No Power Rangers or Ninja Turtles tonight._ There was the small matter of his stuffed animals, though. They sat on his bed now, beady plastic eyes weighing him, watching, _knowing._

Some years ago he’d gone through an “I’m too old for all this kid stuff” phase and he’d given a lot of his childhood belongings away. Only a few of his favorite toys had survived the purge, and those were now proudly displayed either on his shelves, or in the case of his stuffed animals, sitting snug on his mattress.

Wordlessly, he moved to tug the covers down. As casually as possible he also moved his old teddy bear and stuffed chocobo to sit on the floor, out of sight. Somehow he knew he'd feel weird if they were visible, as if they would be able to see what he was doing.

A hand on his back pulled him back into the moment. “You seem distracted,” Ignis said, his voice pitched low and sweet.

“I'm overthinking things,” Prompto admitted. Then he turned and sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a hand for Ignis to take. “Help me focus?”

Ignis grasped the hand, and brought it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles, feather light. “It would be my pleasure.”

Prompto let himself relax then, pushing his anxiety aside with a slow breath. Without letting go of Ignis’ hand, he scooted back on the mattress, shifting so his head rested on the pillow. Ignis followed his lead, climbing over Prompto, one knee between Prompto’s legs.

It took little coaxing to pull Ignis down for a kiss, to get him to rest his full weight on Prompto’s body. Ignis was heavy like this, a wonderous force pressing Prompto into the creaking mattress. Their mouths came together and it was suddenly harder to breathe, but then Ignis shifted up onto an elbow and Prompto pulled in a breath through his nose.

Hands buried themselves in Prompto’s hair, and he hummed his approval into Ignis’ mouth, the sound vibrating against their exploring tongues. Prompto let his own hands wander, dragging against smooth, hot skin. Ignis might have been sculpted like a statue, but his flesh yielded under Prompto’s eager explorations. He ran his palms down strong biceps and forearms, and slid them down Ignis’ well-muscled back. A laugh choked it's way into his mouth when he reached a little further and squeezed Ignis’ ass with both hands. The sound transitioned to a soft sigh of pleasure when Prompto pushed his hips up, leveraging Ignis’ in place for maximum friction.

The kisses became a little less gentle after that. Ignis’ hands curled into fists, tugging almost painfully at Prompto’s hair, holding him in place. All thought fled Prompto’s head; he hooked a leg over Ignis’ back, trying to push himself up further to grind against his boyfriend. A groan rumbled up from Ignis’ chest at the motion; Prompto felt it against his ribs, and in his mouth and throat, and he made his own soft, earnest noise.

Prompto had no way of knowing how long they lay like that, wrapped up in each other, tasting each other until he felt breathless and awash with heat. Pleasure made his mind hazy, though with their pants on he felt a certain amount of frustration at the lack of direct contact. Ignis eased back, giving brief, sweet kisses to lips that felt swollen. He moved, dropping kisses on Prompto’s cheek and chin, and it gave them both a chance to suck in deep breaths.

Abruptly, Ignis pulled back. It took Prompto’s horny brain a few seconds to realize that the kisses had stopped completely, and he let his eyes flutter open. What he found was Ignis up on his elbows, only one hand left in Prompto’s hair scratching at his scalp. The other cradled the side of Prompto’s neck, thumb slowly tracing along his pulse. And Ignis was just...staring. There was an odd look on his face, one that was soft and gentle, but also laser focused. His eyes were dilated so that the green was a thin sliver ringing the pupil, and the whole picture gave him a sort of drunken appearance. _I did that to him,_ Prompto thought with a little shudder.

The staring was beginning to unsettle him, though. Prompto never held up well under scrutiny, and Ignis’ pinpointed gaze roving over him, drinking him in, made Prompto want to squirm.

“Iggy,” he said, not quite a whine. He was hard, and his jeans felt so tight, and he wanted to feel nothing but bare flesh between them.

Almost as if he were coming out of a daze, Ignis blinked down at him, and his lips curved up into a smile. “Sorry, darling. You are just...you are so beautiful.”

Now that _did_ make Prompto squirm. He felt something shift inside him, something that made him blink rapidly and turn his gaze away--or he tried to, at least. Ignis was still holding onto him, so he settled for squeezing his eyes shut. A lump filled his throat, cutting off any denials he might have made. _You’ve got it backward, babe. You’re the pretty one._

There had been so much conviction in the statement, though. Ignis had breathed it out like a benediction, like he was swearing an oath. _Ignis wouldn’t lie to me,_ a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. Well, maybe not, but Ignis wasn’t infallible. He wasn’t right all of the time.

_But would Ignis want me if he didn’t think I was attractive? He wouldn't look at me like that if he didn't._

Prompto couldn't banish his sudden insecurity, even though the words made his heart beat faster. All he could think of were the faded, jagged lines on his stomach, of his silly freckles, his too pale skin, how short he was, how _different_ he looked from most Insomnians, and that awful mark on his wrist, the horrible thoughts it gave him when he wondered where he'd come from--

A hand took hold of his chin once more, and then Ignis was kissing him again, slow and focused. Prompto squeaked in surprise, and he was panting again when Ignis pulled back a minute later.

“I can see you disagree,” he murmured, and the look on his face was...sad? Disappointed? “You know I wouldn't lie to you, don't you?” Ignis asked, the words an echo of Prompto’s own thoughts.

Prompto nodded. Ignis kissed him again, on the neck this time, tilting Prompto’s head to the side to press lips just beneath his jaw. “I don't often extend compliments, you know,” Ignis said, his voice silky against Prompto’s skin. “Not unless I mean them.”

Prompto released a shaky breath as Ignis kissed down his throat, to his shoulder. “I-I know,” he stuttered out, then sighed when Ignis reached the faded hickey on his neck. His lips brushed against it too briefly before moving on, and Prompto whined.

“Hush,” Ignis admonished, less of a command and more of an amused reaction. Last time they'd done this, when Ignis had sucked on his neck, he'd been swept up in the moment, mind clouded enough by lust and pleasure that he'd lost control of himself. Even though Prompto had seen the want shining in Ignis’ green eyes earlier, he knew his boyfriend hadn't been pushed to that limit this time. Yet.

Ignis seemed more in control, more sure of himself as he sprinkled kisses along Prompto’s collar bone. It was nice, and a soft, involuntary sigh of pleasure escaped Prompto’s lungs. Ok, so maybe this wasn't the ravishing he'd been looking forward to, but he was still enjoying himself. And Ignis was just as sexy like this as he was when he was shaking with need.

Those lips moved lower with little encouragement; Ignis seemed to be searching as he ghosted his mouth and fingertips along Prompto’s skin. Probably looking for erogenous zones, and boy was he in for a surprise if that was the case.

“Where do you want me?” Ignis asked, as if he was reading Prompto’s mind again, and _fuck_ if that wasn't the sexiest question Prompto had ever heard. Ignis’ breath on its own felt amazing, puffing softly against Prompto’s chest. One hand was splayed a bit lower on his ribcage, and that felt incredible too, even though Ignis wasn't moving it.

“Anywhere,” Prompto gasped, watching Ignis as the man hovered over him. “Literally anywhere.”

One impossibly arousing eyebrow rose at that, arching up over one half of Ignis’ ridiculously beautiful face. “Oh? You're really _that_ sensitive?” He didn't sound dubious, just curious, like Prompto was something fascinating he'd never encountered before.

“Yeah, just kinda all over. Seriously babe, I don't care where, just...don't stop, okay?” Prompto realized how demanding that sounded, and some part of his brain that was still a shy fifteen year old squeaked at him for being so brazen. He never thought he’d be ordering Ignis around in bed, even if he'd turned the command into a question at the end.

Which only made it better that Ignis obeyed without another word.

Maybe he was just testing the truth of Prompto’s statement. Whatever the reason was didn't matter, not when Ignis traced his mouth down Prompto’s breastbone. He ghosted fingertips along Prompto’s ribcage at the same time, eliciting a quick snort of laughter. The sensation just sensual enough to move past being ticklish, leaving Prompto’s skin tingling in the wake of Ignis’ hands.

“Yeah,” he sighed sharply, “Yeah, that'll do it.” He swore he could feel Ignis smiling against the bottom of his sternum before slowly kissing his way back up. Those strong hands gripped Prompto’s sides, holding his torso in place, which was probably a good idea. A tentative tongue swept over one of Prompto’s nipples a moment later, and Prompto would have arched off the bed if Ignis wasn’t holding onto him. As it was he made an extended whining noise, and threw his head back into the pillow.

Ignis, apparently deciding that he enjoyed that reaction, left his mouth there for several minutes. His tongue laved over the spot, and when he closed his mouth over it and gave a short suck Prompto felt the pleasure go shooting straight to his cock. Shit. _Why didn't we take our pants off first?_

The strain was already too much, and Ignis’ attentions were only making things worse. Prompto was sure his cock was going to be purple by the time it was freed from his jeans this time.

Then Ignis started kissing his way down Prompto’s stomach, and he lost his train of thought. He went still, afraid to look down, sure that Ignis would skip past the marks or see them up close and realize how awful they really were.

There came a pause; Ignis broke away, though Prompto could still feel short puffs of breath against his skin.

“Darling?” Ignis said, sounding unsure, a jarring difference from the confidence he’d been showing up until that point.

Prompto noticed then that his eyes were squeezed shut, and his head was no longer burrowed back into the pillow, but turned aside. On top of that, his fists were gripping the bedspread so hard he was sure his knuckles were turning white.

With an effort, he pried his eyes open and forced himself to look down at Ignis. A frowning, worried looking Ignis, to be exact.

“I...I can stop if you like,” Ignis said, and Prompto blinked slowly at him, his brain whirring to catch up.

“Wha-?” he panted.

“If you're not comfortable…,” Ignis dropped his gaze, and Prompto remembered his vague, unexplored thought over how much experience Ignis had in bed. He'd been doing well a minute ago, though. What had changed?

“Why...why would you--,” and then it hit him, “Oh, no Iggy! I was just--my stomach. And you're…” Prompto bit his lip and trailed off as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Ah,” Ignis said, and he looked both relieved and oddly troubled. More reassurances rose on Prompto’s tongue, but they cut off with a gasp when Ignis bent and kissed his stomach. His thumbs traced over Prompto’s sides, stroking over the faint stretch lines, and he slowly peppered kisses over the expanse of marred flesh.

Something clenched in Prompto’s chest, flooding him with a brilliant heat. It was more a feeling than an actual, physical blush, a surge of affection that had his throat going tight and his eyes blinking fast. He wasn't sure if Ignis kissing his stretchmarks was adorable or hot or the greatest relief of his young life (or all of the above). What he did know was that he loved this man more than he ever thought possible.

“Iggy, stop,” he rasped, his voice hoarse with emotion, “You're gonna make me cry for real.”

Ignis smiled again, an almost mischievous expression. His mouth moved lower, and Prompto nearly flopped back down onto the bed. Without thinking he reached out with one hand and raked his fingers through Ignis’ hair. The strands were just as glossy and silken as he remembered, a sensation that he wished he could put in a bottle to carry around with him wherever he went.

“You're amazing, Iggy,” he whispered as Ignis nosed the faint blond trail of hair peeking out from Prompto’s waistband.

“You know I feel the same,” Ignis murmured. He traced a finger over the front of Prompto’s jeans, sending vague shivers of pleasure through Prompto’s eager cock. “Can I…?” he asked softly, and his green gaze met Prompto’s eyes. There was heat there, but also that softness that stole Prompto’s breath away. Affection and desire shone together, mingled with something Prompto would have called shyness on anyone else.

“Yeah. Yes,” Prompto said, nodding. He stroked Ignis’ hair again quickly; his whole body was thrumming, too hot. Having pants on right now seemed completely ludicrous, as did his nervousness, his anxiety dampened by need and the knowledge that Ignis wasn't put off by his flaws.

Ignis sat up on his knees, rearranging their legs until he was straddling Prompto’s thighs. His fingers were deft, and Prompto watched, entranced as they made short work of his button and zipper. The motion gave Prompto a free moment to admire those artful hands--Ignis had such _gorgeous_ hands, and arms for that matter. The whole package was perfect, sure, but Prompto enjoyed watching those long, precise fingers, and those well-muscled arms. _That's not weird, right? That I think his arms are so sexy?_

Prompto didn't have a lot of time to contemplate his possible fetish. Ignis was pulling his pants lower, dragging them down over his hips, and his boxers were going with them. His cock bounced free as the fabric was peeled away, and he lifted his hips to expedite the process. Ignis shifted to the side, and Prompto shimmied until he could kick his pants off over his feet.

_Oh. I'm naked,_ he realized belatedly. Why he was surprised by this he didn't know, but he was naked and Ignis was only shirtless. It hardly seemed equal. Prompto let himself flop back on the bed, raking his eyes down Ignis’ bare chest to his waist. He looked pretty damn sexy like this, actually, with the hint of chiseled hip bones peeking out over his waistband, not to mention the dark stripe of hair trailing down from his navel.

Prompto wanted to touch every inch of that smooth, olive skin, wanted to taste it and feel it flush against his own. He was so caught up in his admiration that he didn’t realize he was the subject of similar scrutiny, that is until a hand cupped his cheek, tilting his gaze back up to meet Ignis’. He was staring, eyes sharp, boring into Prompto’s as if he was trying to silently impart some important knowledge.

“Iggy,” Prompto said, almost exasperated now by this continued admiration. His heart was pounding, and he felt so hot, so ready. They’d dragged out the foreplay for long enough, and as much as he loved Ignis’ endearments, he also wanted to get off tonight--he wanted that for _both_ of them. If Ignis didn’t still have his pants on, Prompto would have already pounced on him to offer some kind of relief for his arousal.

“Apologies,” Ignis said, and something had gone rough in his voice. He looked like he wanted to say something else then--his jaw tensed and Prompto watched his throat bob. Finally, he seemed to work a few words past whatever obstacle had been holding him back. “You are really so lovely.”

“You kinda said that already,” Prompto answered, bringing one knee up to press against Ignis’ groin.

A ripple of need passed over Ignis’ features, like he was just barely restraining himself now. “Well--it bears repeating.”

This time, he didn’t give Prompto an opening to protest. A hand smoothed down Prompto’s stomach, the touch almost reverent, no longer ticklish or teasing. The muscles in Prompto’s abdomen still jumped, but the sensation shot pleasure straight downward. Seconds later, Ignis was palming him, and Prompto suddenly couldn’t think past the hand that slowly began working over his cock, just as good as it had been the first time. No, _better._

“O-oh,” he gasped softly, watching. Fuck, but he definitely had a thing for those hands. Watching those beautiful fingers stroke him made him feel like his brain was going to liquefy. All he could feel was heat and pleasure burning through every vein in his body, bursting capillaries and probably melting a few nerve endings for good measure. And that was just from Ignis’ _hand_. Prompto could remember the feeling of Ignis’ mouth on him, though he’d been so far gone and delirious that the memory was sort of a blur. He had only gotten a brief  look, and dammit he was gonna pay attention this time.

Ignis leaned forward on his free hand then, the mattress creaking as he bent to kiss Prompto again. His hand didn’t stop moving, and Prompto appreciated that, he really did, but now he couldn’t _see._ Kissing Ignis was so good though, incredible and breathtaking, and combined with-- “Ah!” Prompto yelped into Ignis’ mouth, past his probing tongue as an adventurous thumb swiped over the leaking head of his cock. It stayed there, circling, and Ignis didn’t relent, pulling Prompto’s whimpering mouth back to his.

Too much, too much, Prompto was too weak for this. Or Ignis was too good, too good to him, or maybe just too sadistic. Most of his hand had stopped moving except for his thumb, and fuck! Now it was sliding just beneath the head, rubbing the sensitive ridge of flesh there in a way that had Prompto bucking up as the pleasure went from a steady build to a sharp spike.

When Ignis sat up Prompto was left gasping. Then his hand moved away too and Prompto nearly sat up to protest, to beg Ignis not to stop. He needn’t have bothered--Ignis was shifting down the bed, and Prompto immediately squirmed back a bit toward the headboard to give him more room. The angle was a bit awkward, but Ignis didn’t seem to care. _My bed is too damn small for us both._ There was only just enough time for that thought before Ignis was bowing over him, and taking Prompto in his mouth.

Later, Prompto would think there was nothing in the world that could compare to how hot it looked to have Ignis between his legs, sucking his dick. Ignis was beautiful, of course, but this was transcendental. There was nothing comparable to how he felt in that moment, how _good_ he felt, how the sensation of Ignis’ lips suctioned around him coupled with how just being _near_ Ignis made Prompto’s heart feel like it might burst. His chest was heaving, and he was up on his elbows again, wiping his sweaty hair back out of his eyes, and then that hand was combing roughly through Ignis’ hair. A hand joined Ignis’ mouth, just squeezing and stroking at the base, and Prompto felt his whole world tremble.

It took every shred of self-control he had to suck down enough air to speak past his own desire. “S-stop,” he gasped. Ignis pulled off of him with a wet noise that could have been Prompto’s undoing. His beautiful face was flushed, his green eyes were so dilated that they were nearly black. _Mine probably look the same._ His body was _humming_ , coated in a fine sheet of sweat, and he was flushed from his chest to his hairline.

“What’s wrong?” Ignis asked, and there was that uncertainty again, like he was worried he had been underperforming. Like he was unsure of his own skill. The question sounded so vulnerable that Prompto instantly felt bad for asking him to stop. Was this a matter of inexperience, though, or had one of those past dates of his told Ignis he was shitty in bed in a moment of pettiness? _No, don’t get mad now. Pay attention._

“I don’t...wanna come yet,” Prompto panted, pushing up into a seated position and pulling Ignis close to kiss him. He pressed a few sloppy kisses along Ignis’ cheek up to his disheveled hair, then rested their foreheads together, eyelids fluttering closed. “Last time wasn’t just a fluke. If you work me up like that I’ll come, like, stupid fast.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Ignis said, his breath playing against Prompto’s chin. Then he mirrored Prompto’s motion from earlier, and reached up to comb a hand through Prompto’s damp hair. “I’m...glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

As corny as the words were, Prompto could only find them endearing. Ignis was just too sweet, too sincere in that instance for Prompto to tease. “That’s one way to put it,” he said, grinning as he opened his eyes and sat back. He dropped his gaze down, and his grin widened. “You know, it’s kinda awkward being the only naked guy in the room.”

Ignis’ blush had been fading as he caught his breath, but it came creeping back. “Ah. Of course.” Now Prompto couldn’t help but snicker. The moment was awkward, but not in a bad way. He helped Ignis out of his slacks, though his “help” mostly consisted of him sticking his hands down inside Ignis’ waistband so he could touch the unexposed skin beneath. In the end, Ignis gently slapped Prompto’s wandering hands away and stood to shed his slacks and boxer-briefs.

And then...they were both naked.

For some reason, Prompto’s brain sputtered and stalled, and he could only _look._ He wasn’t ogling, or he didn’t think he was. His mouth had gone dry, and he felt a little shy again when confronted with Ignis’ unmarked perfection. Every line and contour of his body was smooth, unblemished, every inch of him lithe and perfect.

Before he could completely lose his nerve, he grabbed Ignis’ hand and pulled. “Come here,” he near-whispered, and Ignis complied, climbing back on the bed and resuming his position over Prompto. Their kisses then were soft as they eased back together. Ignis’ skin felt just as good against his as Prompto had imagined, no more barriers between them to shed or stymie his hands.

Ignis snorted into Prompto’s neck when Prompto almost immediately took advantage of his exposed state to squeeze his ass again. “Have I ever mentioned how fucking sexy you are?” Prompto breathed, unrepentant.

“You may have brought it up once or twice,” Ignis laughed. It was such a wonderful sound, so carefree and a little hoarse with arousal, Prompto’s heart skipped a beat to hear it.

He almost said it then, almost blurted it out like he’d been worried he would. “I love you,” was on the tip of his tongue, and then Ignis shifted, positioning himself on top of Prompto’s hips. The only noise Prompto could make was a strangled moan as their cocks rode together, the heat of them nearly searing. Ignis’ hiss of pleasure reminded Prompto that his boyfriend’s cock hadn’t gotten any attention yet, and Prompto just couldn’t let that stand.

Well, the moment to throw down the gauntlet--which sounded cooler than word-vomiting his feelings--was gone. He was also on the receiving end of a rather smoldering look; Ignis’ gaze was steadfast with lust, and Prompto knew the time for awkwardness and teasing was slipping away.

“Up,” he whispered, and Ignis lifted away from him, watching intently as Prompto followed, until Ignis was essentially sitting in his lap. It felt a little incongruous, _but fuck, who cares._ All that mattered was that they were together, that Prompto loved him. Their cocks were flush, bobbing together against Prompto’s stomach, and it was with a shaking fingers that Prompto reached between their bodies.

A hand gripped Prompto’s shoulder as he gathered them up and began to stroke them together, and he turned his head to kiss Ignis’ knuckles, up his wrist. His mouth reached up to Ignis’ collar bone, which was where Prompto dropped his forehead, breathing hard as he watched his own hand working, wrist twisting. Both of them were leaking, slightly cloudy fluid dripping down and catching against his hand. Not enough to make them slick, but it made the glide of his hand a little smoother.

“Iggy,” he huffed, “Gods, you feel so good.” Did that make sense? Ignis was so hot in his hand, hot against him, both of them pulsing, blazing. Prompto knew he was teetering already, but he couldn’t help it, Ignis was just too much, he filled all of Prompto’s senses--his scent, the damp heat of his skin, his breath gusting against Prompto’s neck, the hand that grasped Prompto’s hip, a low noise of pleasure that shuddered straight down to Prompto’s cock.

The hand slid off his shoulder, Ignis’ arm going around the back of Prompto’s neck to hold him close. “Prompto, I--!” That was as far as he got before his voice choked off with a short groan, and then he was coming. Prompto wouldn’t have thought he could feel surprise in his current state, but there it was. More than that, he was unbelievably turned on past the point of rational thought. Ignis coming all over his hand and stomach was just enough, the last push he needed to topple off the edge.

With eyes screwed shut, he released a lengthy sob, strangled and undignified, against Ignis’ chest. He kept his hand moving for a few moments longer, until Ignis grasped his forearm, stilling the motion. Then, they just stayed like that, catching their breaths and leaning into each other as the pleasure burned its way through their veins. Prompto felt heavy, sated and ready for sleep. Ignis arm was still around him, and the hand on his arm was reflexively squeezing him every few seconds as they came down from their high.

A kiss was pressed to the side of Prompto’s head, and he grunted as Ignis unwound his arm, trying to sit back. “No,” Prompto grumbled, reaching for his boyfriend. He was easily thwarted now, too wobbly from his orgasm to resist as Ignis pushed him back onto the mattress.

“Lie down, dearest,” Ignis said. His voice sounded so...relaxed wasn’t right. Content, maybe. Prompto was in no state to be thinking up adjectives. He couldn’t even have pried his eyes open at the moment to save his life.

He was not to be swayed, however. Ignis tried to stand, to swing his leg over Prompto and onto the floor. “Stay,” Prompto said, sleepy, grabbing at Ignis’ and catching his wrist in a loose hold. They were supposed to cuddle now, that was how it worked. Unless…

There was a moment of panic where he thought Ignis might actually want to leave, but it was quickly quelled. “I’ll be but a moment,” Ignis promised. He freed himself easily from Prompto’s grasp, and then he was gone, and so was his warmth. As soon as he was alone he’d begun to drift, sulky at first, but too tired to do anything about it.

It could have been minutes or an hour later that Prompto felt a warm, wet cloth swiping over his stomach, then his hand. The cloth disappeared a moment later and then Prompto heard Ignis voice, sleepy and subdued, “Your contact lenses, darling.” It took a few moments of clumsy fumbling for Prompto to get his eyes open and pluck out his contacts, and then he flopped back down as the light clicked off. 

Finally, much to his relief, he felt Ignis climbing back into bed with him. Without needing any encouragement, he rolled into his boyfriend’s chest, cuddling as Ignis made himself comfortable.

“‘Night Iggy,” he mumbled.

“Goodnight, love,” Ignis whispered to him, and something about his choice of words rang as important, but before he could piece together why, Prompto was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I didn't mean for this to take so long, but thank you all so much for sticking with me. I hope this long sex chapter made up for my absence. I love you <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’ve said this before, but I’m sorry for any inconsistencies in this story. I don’t think there’s any major discrepancies or conflicts, but I can’t recall all the tiny details and I haven’t had a chance to sit down and reread through everything. Also, I’ve been working on my promnis big bang fic, which is why this took so long.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me! This is a pretty long chapter and I was worried it wouldn’t make any sense because of how long it took me to write, but I think it came together decently. Enjoy~!

“I am _really_ getting used to this,” Prompto mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.

A hand paused, warm and calloused fingers resting against the dip of his spine. “I didn’t realize you were awake,” Ignis’ voice said, so gentle in the dark, the words private and for Prompto’s ears alone. Oh-so-slowly, his hand began to move again, caressing Prompto’s skin and leaving delicious shivers in its wake.

“M’not,” Prompto countered, and he wasn’t. Not fully, anyway. It was dark enough beyond his closed eyelids that he knew it was much too early to even consider getting out of bed. So of course, early-bird Ignis was awake.  

A part of Prompto’s mind was pretty sure this moment was a dream he was having, because it was kinda too perfect to be real. He was curled against Ignis’ chest, head tucked under the taller man’s chin, and their arms were wound around one-another, legs intertwined. And they were naked. Bare skin against bare skin, literally as close together as they could be without fucking.

Prompto felt utterly spoiled. From now on waking up in the morning was always going to be an utter disappointment if there wasn’t a naked Ignis there for him to cleave to.

“Ah, so you’re talking in your sleep,” Ignis said, mirth evident in his tone.

“Talkin’ is what I’m best at,” Prompto replied, his lips brushing Ignis’ skin with each minute movement.

Ignis chuckled, a warm sound that made Prompto’s heart spin with affection. “You’ll hear no arguments from me on that.”

“Jerk,” Prompto muttered, shoving half-heartedly against Ignis’ chest. “You didn’t have to agree with me.”

“Mmm,” Ignis hummed, his voice vibrating pleasantly beneath Prompto’s palm. Ignis’ skin was like silk against his; their shared body heat was heavenly, the solid feeling of Ignis in his arms--of his steady heartbeat--was soothing.

The conversation petered out there, and Prompto let himself drift, ensconced safely in Ignis’ embrace with a hand teasing gently through his hair.

This was what true happiness was, right? It had been a long time since Prompto had felt so utterly content, but he was sure. The burning light in his chest, the deep, abiding affection he’d come to feel for Ignis--that was happiness. That was love, and loyalty, and the sheer joy that he felt knowing that Ignis cared about him. It was akin to the way Noct made him feel, and Gladio too, but more intense, magnified and overflowing until he thought it might consume him.

Falling in love with a friend was probably the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, the best thing he’d ever done. It was the strongest love he’d ever experienced, and he held tight to it even as he dozed.

Sometime later, he blinked awake and found that Ignis had drifted back to sleep, the hand that had been in his hair now resting against his back. Prompto groaned softly, knowing it had to nearly be time to get up and start getting reading for the day. They both had work, and Prompto knew he’d get up with Ignis in order to spend as much time with him as possible before they had to head to their separate duties.

As if on cue, Ignis’ phone began to chirp loudly and vibrate against the surface of Prompto’s nightstand. Almost immediately, Ignis shifted against him, stretching until his back popped before reaching behind himself to silence his alarm.

“Are you awake, darling?” Ignis asked, yawning at the end of the question.

“No,” Prompto said.

He heard Ignis cluck his tongue, and then he was leaning back so he could look down at Prompto. A hand came to rest at the back of his neck, and Prompto sighed and turned his gaze up.

Ignis was looking at him with a carefully crafted expression that said “be reasonable” without him having to say anything out loud, something Prompto could never pull off even if he was trying to argue with actual reason. “Come now. We had a wonderful day all to ourselves yesterday. Now we must return to work, and we mustn’t pout over it.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“You say that rather often, but I notice you pout quite a lot,” Ignis teased, sneaking a finger up to tap Prompto on the nose.

“Maybe it’s because my boyfriend won’t sleep in with me,” Prompto said, and even he could hear the pout in his voice.

Expression warming, Ignis leaned in and kissed Prompto between the eyes, causing his entire face to scrunch up. “Someday,” Ignis said, making the word sound like a genuine promise. “Once this conference madness has ended and our lives return to normal.”

Now _that_ was something to look forward to. Ignis wouldn’t have to work such ridiculous hours nearly every day, and it wouldn’t take Noct’s intervention for him to have a day off from work. Even now he seemed much more spritely, like a single day off to spend time with Prompto had reinvigorated him after several solid weeks without a real break.

“Come on,” Ignis said, giving Prompto an encouraging pat on the ass. “Up with you. I’d like to shower before I head back to the Citadel, if I may?”

“Of course ‘you may,’” Prompto snorted, trying not to giggle when the hand on his butt gave a light squeeze. Unable to help himself, he cupped Ignis jaw and brought their mouths together in a sweet morning kiss, not bothering to deepen it since neither of them had brushed their teeth yet. For a few lingering seconds Prompto held him there, shifting closer until their chests brushed together, hoping maybe he could convince Ignis to stay for a morning quickie--and then Ignis’ phone began chirping again.

Prompto released him with a whine as Ignis grabbed for his phone again. “You snoozed it!” he said accusingly.

“Because I knew you would try to keep me in bed,” Ignis said with a grin. “By the way, I notice you keep a bottle of personal lubricant behind your bedside lamp where anyone could find it. I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t use it last night.”

Squeaking, Prompto scrambled over Ignis, grabbed the bottle of lube--which he’d thought was perfectly _out of sight_ behind his lamp--and quickly stuffed it into the nightstand drawer. “I forgot it was there,” he admitted, cheeks flaming as he tried to untwist the blanket now wrapped around his middle.

It took them a minute to free themselves from the tangle of fabric, after which Prompto directed Ignis to shower first. “I’ll go start the coffeemaker,” he said as Ignis gathered up his clothing. At some point the previous night, Ignis had taken the time to gather his clothing up and fold it neatly, leaving it sitting on top of the mess on Prompto’s desk. Still mildly embarrassed about the state of his room (and glad Ignis hadn’t said anything about it) Prompto showed his boyfriend to the bathroom and got him a towel from the linen closet.

“I shan’t be long,” Ignis promised him as he tested the temperature of the water with his hand. Prompto wished he had something more to offer his boyfriend besides the off-the-shelf products and cheap spare toothbrush, but if Ignis minded he would never say anything. _And he probably doesn’t mind,_ Prompto told himself, trying his best to believe it.

Yawning, Prompto hobbled down the hall in hastily pulled on pajamas, leaving Ignis to shower on his own. He had his eyes squeezed shut as his jaw stretched, and so when he rounded the corner into the kitchen and nearly bumped right into his mother he almost screamed.

“Mom!” he exclaimed, grabbing at his chest.

“Sweet Shiva, Prompto! You scared me half-to-death!” his mother said with an identical gesture. She was still in her hospital scrubs, her hair in a disarray. Obviously she’d just gotten home, though Prompto hadn’t heard her come in over the sound of the shower.

“Sorry, Mom, I--,” he stopped mid-sentence when he saw what she was holding in one of her hands--his shirt. That stupid hipster shirt he’d worn yesterday! How had... _Oh gods. I took it off and threw it on the floor!_ He’d completely forgotten and Ignis had too, otherwise one of them would have retrieved it, surely.

She noticed him gaping at the shirt, and pushed it at him until he reached up and took it. “Do I want to know why you left your shirt in the kitchen?” she asked him, one eyebrow lifted wryly.

“Um…,” he hedged. He had no idea how to answer that. “I, um. Probably not?”

Now her eyes narrowed, and then, to his horror, she cocked her head like she was listening to something and couldn’t quite make it out. “Prompto,” she said, dragging his name out slowly, “Who’s in the shower?”

“What shower?” he asked, and it took a concerted effort not to smack himself upside the head. That eyebrow was disappearing beneath her short bangs now, incredulous and amused, much to his annoyance. “You weren’t supposed to be home until later,” he said, unable to help but sound a smidge accusatory.

She sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. “I took an earlier shift,” she explained with a shrug. Then, “Look, sweetie. You’re an adult, and it’s too early for me to lecture you anyway. Now, do you want me to meet whoever spent the night or not?”

“No!” he yelped. “I mean, not now!” Ignis would be mortified if he had to come out here and meet Prompto’s mother now. _After what we did last night he’d never be able to look her in the eye._ Prompto was having some difficulty with that himself--his Mom knew he’d had _company_ overnight and he wished a garula would smash through the wall and crush him to death. Anything to make this moment end.

To his surprise, his mom’s expression went sort of soft, and her hand went to her chest again. “Not now? Does that mean you _do_ want to introduce us?”

Prompto froze. This was such a weird time to get mushy, but he felt himself succumbing to it nonetheless. “I...yeah. Like, properly and stuff,” he told her, ears straining as he listened to the sound of the shower. Ignis wouldn’t be much longer, he knew. The man was thorough, but efficient, and “propriety” was practically his middle name. “He…he would want to do it the right way, I think.”

She blinked when Prompto said “he” but there was no hint of anger or disappointment. She only nodded, and said, “Well then. I’ll just go lie down for a bit in my room. You’ll make coffee?”

Relief made Prompto feel weak. “Yeah,” he said, his throat tight. He wasn’t surprised when she stepped forward and enveloped him in a quick hug, comforting in the way only a Mom Hug can be.

By the time Ignis emerged from the bathroom, the coffee was finished brewing and Prompto was making a semi-successful attempt at cooking omelettes. Ignis curled an arm around his waist as he stood at the stove, and pressed a kiss to Prompto’s temple.

“Mangling eggs now, are we?” Ignis teased.

“Maybe that’s just my cooking style, you ever think of that?” Prompto shot back, but he accepted the kiss Ignis aimed at his lips.

“An interesting presentation style, I’ll admit. Try plating that lump of eggs at any five star restaurant and you’ll get run out of town, though,” Ignis informed him.

“Well, there goes my dream of owning the hottest restaurant in Insomnia. Guess I’ll just have to take up an inferior occupation, like photography or engineering,” Prompto said woefully. Ignis laughed, and kissed him again.

They ate a quick breakfast, and then Ignis was kissing Prompto goodbye at the front door. “I’ll see you later today,” Ignis said, clear affection in the low voice he used. His fingers traced Prompto’s jaw, tilting his face up for another kiss. They might have lingered there for longer than they meant to, but it was Prompto who pulled back for once.

“I gotta go get ready if I’m gonna be on time,” he laughed when Ignis tried to chase his lips.

“Oh, very well,” Ignis sighed, looking very put upon. “We should do this again sometime, though.”

“Only if you promise to stop making fun of my cooking,” Prompto said.

Ignis winced. “No. The price is too high.” He laughed when an outraged Prompto shoved him out the door.

X

“The peace conference is next week.”

Gladio glanced up from the floor where he was currently performing some warm up stretches. He was bent double, legs stretched out in front of him, touching his toes, and he’d had his focused face on until Prompto had made his sudden declaration.

“Yeah? You’re finally feelin’ it, huh?” he grunted, letting go of his sneakers and leaning back on his hands. They were in the gym area of the training facility, surrounded by exercise equipment. Gladio sat on one of those gym mats that were several inches thick and padded so you wouldn’t break any bones if you ate shit on them.

“If by ‘feelin’ it’ you mean ‘freaking out,’ then yeah,” Prompto replied with a nervous little exhale. That morning he’d woken up, picked up his phone, and seen September 1st glaring at him from the screen. There were just over ten days until the Oracle would be arriving with her family, until the Nifs would be showing up, until the city would be in full clusterfuck mode.

There had been a crowd gathered in the main Citadel Plaza when he’d arrived for training. As he’d skirted the cordoned off area, flashing his trainee ID at the Kingsglaive who’d stopped him, Prompto had realized it was a protest. They happened occasionally, people gathering in the main square in front of the Citadel with picket signs and coordinated chants, so he hadn’t been worried until someone had shouted “Insomnia isn’t for outsiders!” at him.

The Glaive had given him a sympathetic look, and returned his ID card. Prompto remembered that a lot of the Glaives had been recruited from outside the city after the war. They were still Lucians by birth, but they weren’t from Insomnia, which was what the protesters found so offensive. _And I don’t look Lucian at all._ He was obviously foreign-born, but he’d lived in Insomnia since he was a baby, so he was just as much a citizen as anyone else. Not that it would matter to anyone who looked at him and only saw an “outsider.”

Still, the small show of solidarity from the Glaive had left Prompto feeling somewhat bolstered after being shouted at. He was used to ignoring people who only saw him as an outsider, but having such a sudden and stark reminder that he didn’t belong had been startling and upsetting.

Security measures were already ramping up; the city guard, the Crownsguard, and the Kingsglaive were all working in conjunction, training together, sharing intel, and performing more noticeable patrols throughout Insomnia. They were trying to “increase their presence,” a visible deterrent to troublemakers who might want to disrupt the peace talks. Prompto was sure they were also tracking down credible threats and putting a stop to violent plots before they could be enacted. He wasn’t privy to that sort of information until he was officially sworn in as a full Crownsguard. Needless to say, he was looking forward to turning in his trainee ID for a real badge.

Prompto had started wearing his uniform more frequently in the hopes that it would deter any fanatics from accosting him. So far it had mostly worked, though he wished the Crownsguard had a more distinctive look, like the Kingsglaive uniforms did.

Gladio studied Prompto for a few seconds after he’d finished speaking, then gestured to his sneakers. “Hold my shoes down, make sure my feet stay flat.” He pulled his knees up as Prompto complied without complaint, kneeling before Gladio’s feet and leaning his hands on his sneakers. “Put your full weight into it, blondie,” Gladio huffed as he folded his hands behind his head and dropped back onto the mat.

“I’ll try, but if you launch me into the ceiling it’s your fault,” Prompto grumbled, anxiety twisting around his ribs. _Next week. I can’t believe it’s already next week._ Gladio, who had been so adamant about training for the past two months, seemed way too relaxed.

“Give yourself some credit, Short Stuff,” Gladio said, heaving himself easily into a situp. The black tank top he was wearing saved Prompto a close-up view of rippling chest muscles, which were probably nice, but not what he wanted face-full of at the moment.

For a few minutes, he remained silent as Gladio did his sit ups, effortlessly and without breaking any more of a sweat than he already had.

“What if I’m not good enough, though?” Prompto blurted, and Gladio grunted, letting himself flop back.

“You worry too much, y’know that?” Gladio said. Prompto put on his best pout, glad that Ignis wasn’t there to tease him for it, and leaned on Gladio’s knees. Gladio made a disgusted noise and sat up, pulling his legs in so he was seated cross-legged. “Look; you’re good, kid. You’re a dead shot, and when we’re sparring it’s like you forget what a klutz you are. Just don’t think about it so hard, all right? Trust your instincts.”

“I don’t know if I have any instincts,” Prompto huffed.

Gladio rolled his eyes, and in a surprisingly fluid motion, got to his feet. He hauled Prompto up as well, one-handed. “You can’t doubt yourself in this job, Prom. Why don’t you go run a few laps until you calm down? The marshal and the other officers are gonna be monitoring the recruits more closely and testing you all individually and together over the next week, and you’re gonna sabotage yourself if you stress too much.”

The thought of having Cor scrutinizing his performance with any sort of depth certainly didn’t do anything to help with Prompto’s stress. After that ride-along they’d done a month before Prompto thought that the marshal liked him, or tolerated his existence on some level at the very least. He just couldn’t stand the thought that after all the training he’d done that he might not measure up in the end.

_I can’t let everyone down like that. I have to be good enough._ Noct had wanted Prompto specifically as a bodyguard, and it made sense for Prompto to know how to protect the prince since they spent so much time together. Even if Prompto managed to become a famous photographer, or even just open his own studio someday, he’d always be there for his friend. And if he fucked this up he knew Noct would be disappointed, and that would hurt.

Was Gladio right, though? Once they had all begun training together as a team he’d thought he was finally starting to get the hang of things. Prompto didn’t know if “good enough” was going to cut it with the Crownsguard, and he wasn’t sure how he measured up to the other recruits. He’d done basic exercises with his fellow trainees, but he had never had a chance to bond with them the way they probably had with each other. Being recruited solely to guard the prince had singled him out in a way, and he’d heard the whispers behind his back wondering what made him so special.

_Don’t ask me,_ he always thought. He was just a kid who’d gotten a few lucky breaks.

Well, luck was only going to carry him so far. For the rest of the day he threw himself into training with a singular focus that was usually hard for him to come by. He always did his best (with the exception of the times he’d gotten distracted goofing off with Noct) but Gladio was right before when he’d said it was crunch time.

By the end of the day Prompto was doubly exhausted. He’d run drills until he was ready to drop and then he’d beaten his own best time on the outdoor obstacle course. After that he’d spent the rest of the day in the shooting range practicing on moving targets, staying well past the time he was normally let off. Now his vision was swimming and he was freshly showered and ready to head home. All of the other recruits had left, but there were a few fully fledged Crownsguard milling around the locker room, largely ignoring him as he pulled his bag out of his locker.

His phone vibrated as he extracted it from his camera bag, and he smiled when he saw Ignis’ name pop up on the screen.

**Ignis:** Gladio tells me you were training late tonight. I trust you’re pacing yourself.

Prompto felt his grin widen as Ignis’ wry tone played through his head. Of course Ignis knew that Prompto had a tendency to push himself when he was properly motivated. They were similar in that way, though Ignis was motivated by a duty to Noct that never wavered where Prompto was motivated by a desire not to make a fool of himself, which tended to come and go. During these stints of sudden work ethic Prompto would get so hyperfixated that he’d forget to give himself breaks and wind up overcome by exhaustion or nausea from going too long without sleeping or eating.

He remembered when he’d been cramming for finals during his last year of high school and he’d been so high-strung he’d burst into tears at Noct’s apartment. Noct had fallen asleep face-down on his calculus textbook and Prompto had been trying to be quiet so Noct wouldn’t wake up and see him freaking out. Ignis had just happened to walk in at that moment with a bag of groceries and he’d calmly taken charge of the situation. Prompto had been made to go lie down in Noct’s room while Ignis made him tea.

At the time Prompto had been too embarrassed for losing control in front of the stern advisor to realize Ignis had probably been truly concerned for him. He remembered thinking that Ignis must have thought he was some kind of crybaby for getting so worked up over a few tests. Ignis was a genius, after all. He’d graduated early and was nearly done with college by then. Why should he waste his time worrying about somebody who could barely handle high school?

_If I’d known what a dork he was I wouldn’t have been so intimidated by him._ What a waste. They could have started dating so much sooner if Prompto hadn’t been such a weenie.

Prompto was about to text back with something cheeky when the buzz of conversation rapidly died out around him. He looked up as he heard quick rustling and saw the nearest Crownsguard had stood and was snapping off a salute. Cor Leonis was walking down the row of lockers, and he gave the woman a nod of acknowledgement as he passed her.

Prompto nearly dropped his bag in his haste to mimic the salute. The marshal stopped before him and gave him a look up and down. Prompto felt a surge of embarrassment--he was dressed in sweats. His street clothes and his uniform both needed cleaning and they were stuffed haphazardly into a plastic bag at his feet.   
A part of him expected a reprimand for not respecting his uniform properly, but Cor seemed not to notice. “Argentum,” Cor said, “You’re here late.”

“Oh, yes sir, just--uh, the conference is next week so I thought I should get as much training in as I could,” Prompto said. He was dimly aware that he was babbling, but Cor once again pretended not to notice. Or maybe he was just too disciplined to roll his eyes at a recruit.

“I assume you were informed that you’ll be working directly under my supervision for the next week,” Cor asked, and Prompto swallowed. He didn’t want the marshal to think he’d only been working harder to seem more impressive. Maybe that was part of it, but he wasn’t just trying to be a kiss-ass--he genuinely wanted to succeed.

“Yes, sir,” Prompto answered. Something about Cor’s measured gaze made him feel unexpectedly nervous about training with the man. Surely it couldn’t be any more strenuous than working with Clarus Amicitia?

“Keep up the good work, recruit,” was all Cor said, before striding away. Prompto tracked him with his eyes, surprise and worry gnawing at his gut. He still couldn’t quite believe that Cor the Immortal even knew who he was, or that the guy kept giving him these understated compliments that always sent Prompto’s mind spinning. It was impossible to tell what Cor really thought of him behind that distant exterior, but he doubted the Immortal would lie to him just to make him feel better.

Prompto’s phone vibrated again, and it nearly slipped out of his fingers. He’d forgotten he was even holding it.

**Ignis:** Darling? You’re not still training are you, it’s nearly ten o’clock.

He grimaced. When he wasn’t on the clock he normally answered texts immediately. He could only imagine Ignis leaving his office to hunt him down and drag him away from the shooting range. Prompto would definitely be in for a scolding if Ignis thought he wasn’t taking care of himself, and he’d wave away any attempts by Prompto to point out that Ignis was overworking himself too.

**Prompto:** sorry babe was talking to the marshal

**Prompto:** i’m still here tho if you wanna get something to eat????

He had time to pick up his laundry bag, shut his locker, and walk to the main entrance of the training facility before Ignis replied.

**Ignis:** Apologies, but I can’t step away tonight. Last minute preparations are piling up.

Prompto fought down disappointment, because he understood. The thought of getting to spend more time together after the conference was one of the only things that soothed his anxiety over the date that was drawing ever closer.

**Prompto:** no worries

**Prompto:** can i sneak up and give you a kiss goodnight ;)

He waited for several minutes again for another response, loitering just inside the doors, and was just about to make his way to Ignis’ office anyway when a reply popped up.

**Ignis:** I’m afraid not. I’m going over security details with Drautos and Lord Amicitia.

**Prompto:** )’:

**Ignis:** I’ll see you in the morning, Prompto.

**Prompto:** ok. try to get to bed before midnight xoxo

There was no immediate reply, so Prompto stuffed his phone in his pocket and headed for the Citadel gates. Frankly, he was ready for the train ride home and the chance to sit down, but Ignis’ replies had seemed...abrupt. The joking, concerned tone from his earlier texts had been completely absent. Prompto didn’t truly begin to worry until he’d taken a seat on the train and still didn’t have a reply from Ignis. _Well, if he was in a meeting he probably just needs to focus._

Deciding firmly that he wasn’t going to worry about it, Prompto opened up King’s Knight and sent a request to Noct and Gladio to join him. He had a long history of misinterpreting people's’ tones when communicating by text or email or IM, and he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night worrying that Ignis was upset about something. _How could he be? I didn’t say anything he could take the wrong way, did I?_

It took an effort to resist going back to reread their conversation. Noct joined his game, but Gladio was apparently “on a date” so instead of playing they wasted the entirety of Prompto’s ride home speculating through the game’s chat function over who he’d charmed into going out with him. Prompto intermittently opened his messenger app to send kissy-face emojis to Gladio’s phone, and finally noted with relief that Ignis had texted him just as the train reached his stop.

**Ignis:** Let me know you’ve made it home safe.

_See? He can’t be mad at me. No need to panic._

Prompto walked the few blocks to his house in the dark, humming tunelessly to himself and feeling confident for once in spite of his weariness. He was sure he’d be nervous again in the morning when he was lining up with the other Crownsguard trainees, but for now he was pretty sure that Cor thought he was a competent recruit. He had a great boyfriend who his mom was aware of, and he was excited now to officially introduce Ignis to his parents. _They’ll love him. I mean, who wouldn’t, right?_

He’d do it after the conference, when Ignis would be able to return to his regular duties. Prompto’s parents would be willing to rearrange their schedules for something as important as meeting the man he was in love with, he was sure. They’d be eager to meet anyone who Prompto was willing to bring home to them.

The thought warmed him. He practically skipped up to his front door and let himself into the empty house. As soon as he was inside he sent off a text to Ignis ( _honey, i’m home!_ ) then wandered into the kitchen to make himself a late dinner.

X

Marshal Leonis was precisely on time the next morning, striding into the exterior training yard at six AM sharp. Sweat was already trickling down Prompto’s back beneath his training uniform from a combination of nerves and late summer heat. Gladio had greeted him when he’d arrived twenty minutes ago, as had a yawning Noct. Ostensibly, they were there to observe all of the recruits, but Gladio had given Prompto a wink and a nudge, and Noct had told him to kick ass, eyes squinting blearily.

He’d spent a few minutes talking to his friends, wishing Ignis were there. When he’d woken up he’d had a text from Ignis wishing him luck. _I’ve an early meeting, but I should be able to sneak down at midmorning._ Surprisingly, there hadn’t been any image messages from Gladio, who normally sent everyone a tasteful morning-after selfie with whoever his one-night-stand had been the night before. With their consent, of course. Apparently the people he took to bed with him tended to think it was as funny as he did.

Gladio wouldn’t spill the beans that morning, though. He still looked smug, and when Prompto had attempted to pry, he’d begun barking at the recruits to line up. Prompto hadn’t had any choice but to fall into line as well.

There had been whispers, mostly idle conversation from the recruits as they lined up, but apparently people had been watching when he was talking to Noct and Gladio.

“Has he even been sworn in yet?”

“I don’t think so. He just gets special treatment ‘cos the prince wanted him for his personal retinue.”

“Fuck, how is that fair?”

“It’s not. They’ll still kick him out if he doesn’t pass muster, but you’ve seen him train; they take it easy on him.”

“I know, right? He’s the Immortal’s little pet, too. I heard he was reported for damaging equipment or something, but they let him off the hook.”

“Pfft. Typical.”

Prompto felt like he was back in high school. These were the exact sort of conversations he’d used to catch wind of when Noct wasn’t within hearing range. Petty, jealous, stupid gossip that made his heart pound and his palms sweat. He’d always hated himself for wondering if they were right, and he found the same still held true.

_Come on, don’t let them get to you. They’re acting like kids, not like Crownsguard._ So what if he already had his uniform and was given access to the palace? He _was_ Noct’s friend, but Gladio wouldn’t take it easy on him during training. Hell, Gladio would probably feel that it was an insult to Prompto’s pride to baby him. _I don’t want special treatment, and the only people I have to prove myself to are my friends. Anyone who doesn’t like that can eat me._

That quiet declaration didn’t immediately soothe his racing heartbeat, but he felt less like he needed to blink back nervous tears.

All conversation ceased as Cor entered the room, followed by Clarus Amicitia and a few other official-looking people in uniforms that Prompto recognized but didn’t know by name. “Crownsguard!” Cor barked, calling them all to attention. The marshal wasn’t a long-winded man--he gave them a short spiel about proving themselves that Prompto could barely hear past the rushing in his ears. This was finally happening. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to just get it over with.

Noct caught his eye from across the yard and gave him a surreptitious thumbs up, and a mouthed “you got this.” Prompto’s stomach was still in his shoes when Cor assigned them laps to get things started. Running was easy, though. Prompto had been running almost every day since he was twelve, and his stamina had only improved of late. Running meant he could turn his brain off, could focus on putting one foot in front of the other, on the breath in his lungs and the welcome burn in his muscles.

Cor ordered them to run and Prompto ran, moderating his pace as most of the other recruits shot off down the track that ringed the outer yard, legs and arms pumping like they were running a race. “You’ll burn yourselves out!” he found himself shouting after them, but if they heard they didn’t listen. He’d learned the hard way that starting off fast meant a hard finish, and he knew the marshal could only be getting warmed up.

His suspicions were only confirmed when they were ordered to queue back up before the marshal and the King’s Shield a half an hour later. Prompto was hot, sweat pouring down his face and neck and plastering his hair to his skin, but he felt energized even before he took a few pulls from the sports drink he was given. Cor gave them a five-minute breather, and then they were told they had an hour to complete five circuits around a course set up through part the Citadel grounds, including the square outside the gates. If any of them missed a checkpoint or failed to return before the allotted time they would be running laps until they dropped.

_Pace yourself,_ he commanded himself as a racing pistol was shot into the air. It didn’t matter what place he finished in as long as he finished before the time was up. He tried to wrap his head around the size of the palace as he began to run again on legs that were already hot. They’d only done laps for thirty minutes, but time had passed in a blur as he’d jogged around the outdoor track. The Citadel was much larger than a single training yard, though, and he’d have to pay attention to make sure he didn’t miss any checkpoints. The thought of having to “run until he dropped” made his stomach lurch at the potential for both humiliation and heat stroke.

_Pace yourself,_ he thought again as he sucked down air, leaving the training yard behind and running along the outside of the training facility building. At some point after he’d arrived that morning, someone had set up a rudimentary course marked with bright orange flags spaced about twenty feet apart. In-uniform Crownsguard were stationed intermittently, holding clipboards and looking bored as they watched the recruits run by. Almost everyone was pulling ahead, some people tossing looks back over their shoulders and smirking--not just at Prompto, but at everyone trailing the pack.

There were water stations, long tables covered in small paper cups, a similar setup to what Prompto had seen at marathons. He’d never run one before, unless today counted. Sweat ran down his face already, again, and he irritably slicked his hair back out of his eyes. He downed a cup of water as he ran and tossed the cup on the ground. Somebody would clean it up, he was sure, though he felt instantly guilty and paranoid over littering on government property.

The course wove around buildings, not one part of it leading in a straight for more than a few dozen steps. It was exhausting and nerve wracking to keep an eye out for the cones and checkpoints and to keep changing direction, constantly adjusting his speed. And it was all very intentional, he was sure, meant to push them, to test their endurance. Maybe the course was designed to simulate what it would be like to hunt through city blocks after an enemy.

Without his phone or a watch, Prompto had no way to judge how much time was passing as he ran. Instinct told him that the first pass around the course took about ten minutes at a moderate speed, but he couldn’t be sure. After he’d reached the main gates for the third time, he put on an extra burst of speed, moving ahead of some of the other runners who were flagging. The next time he came to the gates, he was surprised to find a crowd had gathered. Citadel personnel and probably a few lords and ladies were watching the recruits run, waiting to see who would make the final lap and return in time.

A whoop greeted Prompto as he crossed the outer courtyard, followed by his name and he spotted Gladio’s little sister, Iris, in the crowd. He spared her a wave as she bounced in place, clapping excitedly. Well, at least somebody was enjoying this. Prompto’s heart was racing, a rapid drumroll reverberating in his chest as he circled the square and passed through the gate again.

One more lap. His body was ready for whatever brief respite awaited him once he got back to the training yard. Maybe he’d finally get to vomit, and nobody would be able to say anything about it if he made it back in time.

As he rounded a building, skirting “don’t walk on the grass” signs, Prompto realized he couldn’t see any of the other runners. He was too nervous to risk a glance behind himself, but he didn’t hear any heavy breathing or footfalls aside from his own. Had he counted wrong? Was this the fifth circuit? He passed a Crownsguard checkpoint, and the woman jotted something down on her clipboard, checking him off presumably. They wouldn’t stick around after the task was finished, would they? Why bother? Nobody would be dumb enough to run an extra lap around this ridiculous course.

Now that the thought was in his head, though, he couldn’t get rid of it. Neither could he risk turning back. He didn’t remember the last time he’d passed another recruit, and gods he was so hot and he hadn’t run very far, all things considered, but his heart wanted to claw its way past his ribs and anxiety was draining his reserves more quickly than was normal for him.

Finally, he turned a corner and saw the training facility looming before him. The crowd was standing to the side, blocking the route that wound off around the palace, leaving a straight shot for the main doors. Whether there was any clapping or cheering, Prompto had no idea. All he could hear at that point was his own heartbeat booming in his ears. He was expecting to arrive to find a crowd of recruits all smirking as he ran through the doors. Or maybe the doors would be shut, locking him out, or nobody would be left in the training yard, all of them moved on to the next task.

What he didn’t expect was to run through the halls, and into the training yard to find that he was the first one back.

At first he was sure he was wrong--the other recruits had probably been sent along somewhere else. Then a heavy hand clapped him on the back and his knees nearly gave out. “Look at you, blondie!” Gladio crowed at him. “I knew you had it in ya.”

Noct was standing a few feet away, arms folded over his chest and wearing a satisfied grin. Prompto had rarely seen him looking so pleased with himself, and the reactions of his friends sent a flood of warmth through his chest.

“Congratulations, Crownsguard Argentum,” Cor said as he walked up, expression looking slightly less stern than usual. “I hope you’re ready for what’s next.”

“Yes, sir,” he panted, hands on his knees. Somehow he managed not to throw up.

X

Each day that week saw Prompto limping to the showers after long hours of training, wincing under the hot water until his aching body stopped twinging and throbbing. Compared to working with Gladio, training under the Immortal’s watchful eye was like being stuffed into a meat grinder. Prompto was too exhausted at the end of every day to do much more than collapse into bed. More often than not, that bed was the one in Ignis’ rooms at the Citadel, though not much more than sleep took place beneath the sheets.

Both of them were weary, pushed to their limits every day. Ignis at least had the wherewithal to sit Prompto down each night and every morning to ensure he had a decent meal in his belly. Gladio kept going on about “carbo-loading” and Ignis was heeding his instructions, feeding Prompto pasta and fresh baked bread, along with other healthy foods that Prompto was too tired to taste. He should have been in heaven getting to eat Ignis’ cooking every day, but he found himself falling asleep between bites more than once.

“Just a bit longer,” Ignis whispered to him one night as Prompto curled against his chest. Prompto was just conscious enough to wonder if Ignis was talking about his own work for the conference, or Prompto’s training.

Ignis spent as much time as possible observing Prompto from the sidelines. Prompto often found himself seeking out Ignis’ intent green eyes, seeking the warmth and approval that always shone out of them. Ignis wasn’t always there, in fact, he was there a lot less than Prompto would have liked, but they always met up at the end of the day. Ignis would draw Prompto into his arms, or maybe it was the other way around, or maybe even a mutual drawing together as they sought comfort and company from one another.

“Hey, Iggy?” Prompto asked on another night as they laid in bed. His body cried out for sleep, but he thought it wasn’t quite as bad as the first few nights. “If I keep spending the night in your room, aren’t people gonna start to...I dunno.”

“Put two and two together?” Ignis supplied. He’d been reading--he liked to read before bed, to help his brain wind down. Usually crime novels but Prompto had caught him with a romance novel lent from Gladio (or so Ignis said). Now he set his book aside, tugging off his glasses and setting both items on the night stand on his side of the bed.

Prompto was briefly preoccupied with the fact that they had sides of the bed now. Prompto had the left, and Ignis had the right. They’d slept that way almost every time they’d shared a bed, and now it was becoming habit.

Beside him, Ignis rolled onto his side so they were facing, draping an arm over Prompto’s waist. His naked gaze was thoughtful, his hair down but raked loosely back from his face by his fingers. Unable to resist, Prompto dragged his own fingers through the glossy strands.

“Do you want people to notice us?” Ignis asked softly.

Prompto’s hand stilled. “Not if you don’t,” he said.

“And if that is what I want?”

There was no air in Prompto’s lungs, but he managed to wheeze out, “Do you?”

“Watching you this week has made me realize a few things. I wasn’t giving you enough credit,” Ignis admitted, his gaze dropping to somewhere around Prompto’s chin. “You’re going to be a Crownsguard, a member of the court in your own right, if not a nobleman. You’ll be exposed to the intrigues regardless of my intentions or desires. And I know you’ll be amazing. I cannot hide you any longer. I _will_ not.”

The words were a promise, as fierce as the kiss that followed. Ignis didn’t offer any specifics, but Prompto trusted him to pick the right moment. And then they’d be able to hold hands in public, and go on dates that didn’t need to be disguised or tucked away in secret locations. Ignis probably wouldn’t be one for PDA, but Prompto was sure he could sneak quick pecks and arms around waists.

Just the thought of it was enough to drive Prompto to distraction, and he couldn’t really afford distractions. He decided that it was okay to allow that one, though. Just for a little while.

x

Cor had them start each day with laps around the yard, though after that, each day’s itinerary was a surprise. The recruits ran obstacle courses, climbed ropes and indoor rock walls, and spent hours in the shooting range until their ears were ringing in spite of the protective ear muffs. Prompto always ranked highest in straight up running challenges and--to his own odd mix of pride and dismay--at shooting. They shot ceramic disks out of the sky in the training yard one day, and he didn’t miss a single target. Even the dissenting recruits looked impressed.

What Prompto was truly dreading was sparring, both with weapons and hand to hand. Ignis assured him that he would do well, as did Gladio and Noct, but Prompto was less certain. Direct, physical combat was his weakest skill, and he was sure that if anything was going to reveal him for a fraud, it was that.

His stomach was in knots again as he changed into the padded training gear the day Cor announced they would be sparring. The locker room was mostly empty--everyone was scrambling to impress Cor, but there were a few minutes to spare. Noct lingered with him, eyes glued to his phone as he gave Prompto a patented Noctis Pep Talk™.

“You’ll be fine,” Noct said, the “duh” heavy in his tone. “You’re good, dude. Just don’t think about it so hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” Prompto mumbled. “You and Gladio and Iggy are all badasses.”

Noct snorted. “You’re a badass, too.”

“I’m a wuss,” Prompto retorted.

“Pardon me, but I take offense to that.”

Ignis’ voice made Prompto’s heart nearly leap out of his chest. He whirled away from his locker, beaming, and Ignis stepped into his arms, pulling him close. Prompto felt the tickle of breath on his ear as Ignis whispered, “I’ll kindly ask you not to speak ill of my boyfriend.”

“Dork.” Prompto breathed him in, his scent clean and calming. “No meetings this morning?”

Ignis leaned back, his nose tracing over Prompto’s cheek. “I did, but it was postponed, so I thought I’d nip down early to see how you were faring.”

Prompto twitched a shoulder, squeezing one of Ignis’ hands and trailing his gaze down to his boots. “I’m nervous, but I’ll live.”

There were lips on his temple, and Ignis hugged him again. “You’ll do better than that,” he said, and he sounded so sure that Prompto believed him.

“I’m still standing here, y’know,” Noct drawled. His eyes were still on his phone, but there was heat on his cheeks when Prompto looked up.

“Jealous?” Prompto teased.

“Of your mush-fest? Pfft, no.”

“Sounds like envy to me,” Ignis said, the grin on his face sly.

“When I’m king I’m gonna make it illegal for you to sass me, Specs,” Noct said, and his face was a scowl but his voice was a pout.

“I shudder to contemplate such tyranny,” was Ignis’ dry reply.

Noct rolled his eyes and tucked his phone away in his pocket. “Whatever. If you guys are done being gross, you should probably get going.”

Prompto squeaked when he looked at the clock, and Ignis pressed a quick kiss to his lips before he scrambled out of the locker room.

Cor only gave him a stern look when he fell into line, which still managed to turn Prompto’s guts to water. But when he looked to the side of the room and saw Ignis standing with Noct and Gladio, the jangling in his nerves quieted to a low whisper.

Sparring was objectively worse than most other forms of exercise, in Prompto’s opinion. When he went jogging there wasn’t much chance of him getting karate-chopped or suplexed. Gladio didn’t hold back during training, though, and neither did the other recruits. All the the training he’d done didn’t make the new bruises hurt less, but he could ignore them more easily, he thought. Or maybe it was his imagination, or he was just so tired from the past week that his nerve endings were shot.

It didn’t matter, really. He knew he wasn’t going to win any matches, or maybe not easily, but he was going to _try._ All of his friends were watching, so the best he could hope for was to not make a complete fool of himself.

There was a mini-arena set up in the indoor gym, a large mat spread on the floor that would serve as the ring. His first opponent was a petite woman who darted in and out of his defenses like a hummingbird. _A hummingbird with fists of godsdamned steel,_ he mentally corrected, and it was all he could do to deflect her quick jabs and kicks. Gladio had instructed him not to hold back against a female opponent, because they could and would kick his ass regardless of his own chivalrous instincts. “Never hit a defenseless, non-aggressor,” Gladio had told him, “but a female combatant who’s trained to fight will take you apart if you hesitate or underestimate her.”

Prompto had never doubted Gladio. He even managed to stay on his feet for a full three minutes before she dropped him to the mat. Most of that time was spent in defense, because she was just too fast for him to manage anything else. His next opponent was worse--a very large young man, not as tall as Gladio but just as muscular. Prompto was faster than him, and was doing well dodging and even broke free from his grasp once. Then the guy caught him by an elbow and twisted him down, a knee in Prompto’s spine to pin him.

By his third loss, Prompto was feeling understandably discouraged. “You’re doing fine,” Noct told him when he came slouching over to the sidelines, and Prompto actually barked a laugh.

“Three losses in a row is fine?” he asked.

“You’re playing to your strengths,” Ignis said, “The marshal will see that.” His hand twitched like he wanted to reach out and wind their fingers together, but instead he curled his hand into a loose fist at his side. Prompto felt a brief flare of annoyance; _what strengths?_ he wanted to demand. But Ignis wasn’t the source of his irritation, and the thought of snapping at his boyfriend cooled Prompto’s frustration quickly.

His distress remained perfectly intact, however.

_I’m the one who’s fucking up. I knew I couldn’t do this, what the hell was I thinking?_

“Prompto,” Ignis said, voice low. Nobody was watching them as he took Prompto by the arm and lead him away from the ring of onlookers. “I promise you, you’re not doing as badly as you think you are.”

“I’m _losing_ , Iggy,” he said, helpless. “I just...why am I like this? One snag and I just…” He shrugged, hugging himself. He couldn’t pretend that every loss wasn’t contributing to the next. Defeat shook his confidence and he didn’t know if he was sabotaging himself on purpose or if he just couldn’t recover from the blow to his confidence in time to give the next fight his best. “I can’t win. They’re not going to let me in the Crownsguard.” It didn’t matter that they already called him “Crownsguard Argentum,” or that he had a uniform or a stupid plastic ID badge, they’d never swear him in officially at this rate.

Ignis was gripping his shoulders, the pressure of his hands doing little to reassure Prompto who was about five breaths away from completely panicking.

“Argentum.” Marshal Leonis’ steady voice calling his name sent a shock of ice down Prompto’s spine. He turned and saw that the last match had ended while Ignis was trying to calm him. Hands fell away from his shoulders and turned him to face the ring.

“Yes, sir?” he managed to squeak out.

“Come here, recruit,” Cor said. Prompto couldn’t move of his own volition, so he was glad when he felt Noct’s hand join Ignis’ on his back, giving him an encouraging push forward. He walked into the ring, blood rushing in his ears as he reached the center of the mat where Cor stood. The Immortal looked him up and down, a critical look in his eye. Cor was wearing training gear. When had he changed? He’d just been in his uniform earlier, right?

“Sir?” Prompto’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Argentum, I want you to attack me.”

“What?” That came out much louder, almost a shout. Prompto heard a few snickers from around the room, but he must have been hallucinating the tremor he saw on the marshal’s mouth. “I mean, uh...sir? You want…”

“You’re the lowest ranked fighter today. I will defend, and I want you to attack me with everything you have and try to land a blow.” Prompto’s jaw was hanging open as he looked to his friends for help. Noct shrugged, Gladio looked like he wished he had some popcorn for this show, and Ignis’ expression was so neutral that Prompto knew he was purposely keeping his face that way.

_I’m gonna shit my pants,_ Prompto thought as Cor assumed a defensive stance. _And this is the story of how Prompto Argentum died._ If he punched Cor he was pretty sure his own body would disintegrate and the Immortal wouldn’t even have a bruise.

“Sir, I don’t know if I can,” he said in a whisper. He’d already lost--he didn’t think he deserved to be humiliated on top of that.

“Do I need to order you, _recruit?_ ” Cor said, voice low and gravelly and pitched not to carry. Prompto’s eyes flicked to the marshal’s, then down to his hands, to his bruised knuckles, watched his fingers curl into fists. If they kicked him out, if he failed, he’d hold the title of honorary Crownsguard, but he would still carry the weight of that failure and he wasn’t sure how he could live with it.

“No, sir,” he said.

“Then _attack_.”

So Prompto did. His heart was hammering somewhere in the vicinity of his knees, and he couldn’t hear past the blood howling in his ears, but he did as he was told. The first few swings were wild, easily brushed off. _If you just throw your fists like a madman you’re never gonna land a hit. Focus, blondie. You’re in control._ Gladio’s voice played in his mind, and Prompto gritted his teeth, tamped down hard on his quaking nerves, and moved back in more slowly.

Thank the Astrals Cor was only defending. Prompto would have lost in seconds if the Immortal was countering his jabs. As it was, he couldn’t actually land a hit. Each punch was easily blocked, though he went in at every conceivable angle, pushing as his frustration grew. Cor only circled, patient, forcing Prompto to follow his lead. There was no getting behind him, forcing past his guard, and fuck why would there be? Cor had joined the Crownsguard at fifteen, he’d fought the empire, he was the marshal, the Immortal, and Prompto only had a couple of months of training.

He was already tired, not just from the day but from the whole week of unending evaluations. Cor showed no signs of stopping whatever this was supposed to be, this display of Prompto’s inadequacy. Was he planning on making this go on until Prompto dropped from sheer exhaustion? Well, the crowds wouldn’t have long to wait. Maybe there were some nice caves out in the wilderness that Prompto could retire to after he was deemed unfit for duty and sent packing. He could live out the rest of his days in his shame cave, and maybe Ignis would come by occasionally for a pity visit.

A glimpse of glasses caught his eye to the left of Cor, and Prompto saw the anxious look on Ignis’ face. He must not have thought that anyone could see him, standing toward the back of the crowd, but there was just enough of a gap for Prompto to catch sight of him for a split second. _Gods, what is wrong with me? I worked too fucking hard for this._ Not just for the past summer, but going all the way back to when he’d been a chubby middle schooler with no friends. He’d spent years running himself thin and then when he’d met his goal he’d gone on to try and be as good a friend as he could possibly be to Noct.

Becoming a Crownsguard was an extension of that, even if he had other plans for the future. He’d agreed to do this for Noct, but he’d also done it to prove that he was good enough to be with Ignis, and Ignis deserved better than a washout.

Cor seemed to sense the sudden shift in Prompto’s level of determination. They’d been at it for what could only have been a few minutes, though the time had seemed to drag at first. Now Prompto forgot about time, forgot about the crowd of onlookers, and he threw himself at the marshal. He tried to tighten himself up, make his movements shorter and more precise--Prompto might never be a great close-range fighter, but he could at least land o _ne godsdamned hit._

When his uppercut made contact with Cor’s ribs he was so surprised that for a moment he froze. Apparently, that was what Cor had been waiting for--a hit, or for Prompto to stop moving. Either or, the next thing Prompto knew he was flat on his back, wheezing and staring up at the ceiling. Cor had flattened him with a foot hooked behind Prompto’s ankle and a hand flat against his chest, but _fuck I actually managed to hit him._

“I didn’t imagine that, did I?” he asked over the murmur spreading through the onlookers.

“No, son, you didn’t,” Cor said, leaning over him. Prompto felt an odd warmth flood his insides as the marshal offered him a hand up. Cor lifted him easily, setting him back on his feet. Something close to a real smile had settled on the Immortal’s usually flat mouth. _He called me son. Oh shit, don’t call him ‘dad,’ don’t do it. He won’t like that._

“Thank you, sir,” Prompto said, a grin overtaking his own expression.

Cor held onto his hand, and placed his other hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “You stick to long-range fighting when you can, but if you face down an opponent up close with everything you’ve got then you’ll do fine. Never back down, Prompto.”

“Oh, yes sir. Uh, thank you, again,” Prompto stammered out. His face was already hot from exertion, but he was sure it reddened even further. Cor had never called him by his first name that he could recall. It felt like Prompto had passed whatever test it was that the marshal had set before him, like everything would be fine from here on out.

“Go on, take a breather. Weapons sparring is up next.”

Cor gave his shoulder a squeeze, then released him. Prompto breathed out, and nodded. He’d almost forgotten there was the afternoon to look forward to, but he no longer felt entirely discouraged. Even if he got knocked on his ass again, he could just call it a learning experience.

Gladio was waiting with a bottle of water when he pushed through the crowd. “Here, kid. Drink up,” Gladio said. Prompto rolled his eyes--Gladio was three years older than him, barely more than a kid himself--and took the proffered water bottle.

A hand clapped him on the back and he nearly choked on his first sip, though Noct easily dodged the elbow Prompto sent his way. “Jeez. Come on, I’ve gotten beat up enough today,” he groaned.

“You did awesome out there,” Noct said, eyes actually gleaming. He was excited, more excited than Prompto had seen him in ages. “You’re really gonna do it, Prom. I mean, I knew you could, but I was worried Cor would say you weren’t good enough to join my personal guard.”

Prompto stared at his best friend for several seconds. “You mean I coulda gone through all this, made it into the Crownsguard, just to be assigned to some grunt work?” Prompto said, dismay coloring his tone.

Noct looked guilty for about half a second but the feeling must have passed quickly. “Well, my dad told Cor he could have the final say, so he’s been keeping an eye on you all this time. But you don’t need to worry about that now.”

Prompto was contemplating whether he could kick the prince’s ass in front of thirty recruits and several actual Crownsguard, when he noticed that his boyfriend was missing. “Hey--where’d Iggy go?”

“Huh? Oh, I dunno. I didn’t realize he’d left,” Noct said after a quick, unconcerned look around.

Prompto looked to Gladio, who only shrugged. “Probably got called away and didn’t want to deal with His Royal Pain In the Ass whining for him to stay and watch you get beat up some more.”

Both Noct and Prompto replied to that statement with noises of shock and offense, but Gladio ignored them and threw a towel at Prompto. Grumbling, he wiped down his face, and took another long swig of water. He performed a quick scan of the room, and felt his heart stutter when he noticed a familiar back weaving toward the doors.

“There he is,” Prompto said. “I’m gonna go, uh...yeah. Be right back.”

His friends gave each other a knowing, exasperated look as he turned and began edging around the crowd. By the time he made it through the doors, Ignis had a good head start on him, but Prompto pushed past his weariness and jogged to catch up.

“Iggy,” he hissed as he turned a corner and saw his boyfriend heading toward an exit. Ignis paused, almost as if he were frozen. Prompto came to a skipping stop next to him, slipped his hand into Ignis’, and pulled.

“C’mon. Uh, in here,” Prompto pointed to a random door. There was a moment’s resistance, and then Ignis was following him.

It was a conference room, Prompto saw as they entered. Lights off, a long table surrounded by chairs, unoccupied: perfect.

Prompto shut the door, then turned toward Ignis with a grin. The smile dropped off of his face when he saw that Ignis was back to wearing that neutral mask of his.

“Babe?” he whispered. “Is something wrong? You’re not late to a meeting, are you?”

“No,” Ignis said, the single syllable sounding odd in Prompto’s ears.

“Uh, no to what?”

“To both. I just have a lot of work to do and I’ve wasted enough time today,” was Ignis’ short reply.

Prompto felt a stab of surprised hurt, and then indignation took over. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” he demanded. Normally he might have just let himself be hurt, or he’d have been gentler in asking what the matter was. But he hadn’t just spent the morning riding a roller coaster of anxiety on top of getting his ass handed to him several times over just to turn around and have his boyfriend decide to take a sudden bad mood out on him.

Ignis looked away, and Prompto caught the flash of shame in his eyes. “I...I’m sorry. That was unworthy of me,” he whispered.

“Uh, yeah it was,” Prompto agreed, though the bite had gone out of his own voice. “Just...what’s got your undies in a twist?”

“Nothing,” Ignis replied, too fast, before amending it with, “I’m just tired, as you know.”

Prompto leaned to the side, trying to get Ignis to look at him. He was still holding Ignis’ hand, so he shifted, lacing their fingers together. “Hey,” he said, “Come on. Two hours ago you were all lovey-dovey. Did something happen?”

“I...No. It’s foolish,” Ignis deflected.

_“Ignis.”_

“Gods, please don’t make me say it,” Ignis groaned, reaching up with his free hand to push his glasses up and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Iggy, don’t bottle shit up,” Prompto said. “Hiding things, not talking shit out, that’ll fuck up a relationship really fast. So whatever’s bothering you, just tell--,”

“Prompto, are you attracted to the marshal?”

The question threw Prompto so off kilter that for a long moment he just stood there with his mouth open on his aborted sentence. Ignis still wasn’t looking at him, though now he’d shifted his gaze to the floor, and there was a definite flush on his face.

The laugh bubbled up of its own accord, and Prompto couldn’t stop it. He felt Ignis’ hand tighten around his own as he threw his head back and laughed helplessly into the dim room. Jealous. Ignis was _jealous._ Of the fucking _Immortal_ of all people.

“Iggy,” he gasped, “Gods, Iggy--”

“I told you it was foolish,” Ignis muttered. “May I return to my office and stew in my shame now?”

“Fuck, no.” Prompto sucked in a breath, wiped at his eyes with his free hand, and then struggled not to start laughing again at the absurdity of the situation. “Gods, Iggy, were you really--did you really think that--I mean, _ew_ , first of all. Cor is the same age as my dad, dude, so no.” He saw Ignis’ lips quirk at that, which was heartening.

“I’m sorry,” Ignis said. “I...had thought...you just seemed enamored with him at times. I let presumption get the better of me.”

“Iggy, he’s the _Immortal._ Everyone is enamored with him, you dingus.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Ignis said with a wince. “I haven’t had occasion to be jealous of a lover before, you know. It’s rather...disquieting.”

Prompto smiled in spite of himself. “Well, you don’t have to be jealous, y’know. I wouldn’t...I don’t _want_ anyone else. I only want _you._ ”

Ignis finally looked at him, and his eyes looked dark in the low light. Something had shifted, his mood had changed again, and his hand tightened once more around Prompto’s. “It occurs to me that you didn’t drag me into this empty room to have a discussion about our relationship,” he said, and it was a welcome change of subject.

“You’re right. I think you oughtta make it up to me,” Prompto said. He was still thrown for a loop by the knowledge that Ignis could actually be jealous of anyone. Prompto loved him. He couldn’t really describe it, but nobody else could compare. Even if they were as good looking as Ignis, they still weren’t _Ignis_.

Ignis dragged him in close and their mouths met in the dark. When Prompto was the last to fall in line for weapon sparring, he couldn’t quite manage to feel perturbed by the admonitory look Cor shot him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to finish working on my big bang fic, but I'm gonna keep working on my other stories too. I've also taken up crochet which is very relaxing and I enjoy it and I'm making a blanket that I'm gonna wrap myself in while I write.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there might be a small bit of retconning in this chapter? Honestly, it took me a while to figure out what to do with all of the dead characters since this is a “nobody dies fic,” so don’t worry about the fact that I literally never mentioned this one character in particular until now. I only decided how to handle them in this story around, say, chapter 16, and I haven’t had a chance to bring them up until now. But it’s totally fine and makes perfect complete sense, so like I said, don’t worry about it *finger guns*
> 
> This chapter is also a bit shorter than the last, but goodness knows how long the next few chapters are gonna be. I’m finally getting into stuff I’ve been wanting to write since FFXV came out and Rule of Thirds was a bedtime story that I told myself at night.
> 
> I love you guys, as always.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Prompto winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth--he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. Word-vomit was an everyday affliction for him, unlike the current sick roiling in his stomach. He’d been so high strung for the past week that the stress-induced nausea was fast becoming a familiar occurrence, though. 

Ignis tsked as he fussed with Prompto’s collar, straightening it for the tenth time in as many minutes. “You’ll be fine,” he said distractedly. “Six, Prompto, did you need to sew  _ all  _ of these patches onto your uniform?”

“They’re my flair,” Prompto said with a touch of feigned chagrin. “And I thought you liked them.”

Ignis finally stopped fiddling with Prompto’s uniform long enough to look him in the eye. “I do, dearest,” he said, tilting Prompto’s chin up with a curled forefinger. His green eyes showed none of the strain of the long summer, though Prompto knew he must be exhausted. Ignis hadn’t come to bed the night before until three in the morning, and he’d been up before Prompto’s alarm went off at six. Whether he had actually even slept in that timeframe was another matter altogether.

_ Only four more days, _ Prompto thought, and immediately pushed the words out of his head. The conference would last a week itself, and it would be hectic on a whole new level. As much as Prompto would be relieved once it was all over, thinking too hard about it now made his gorge rise. He wanted Ignis to have a break--a long one, though Ignis would probably start getting antsy after a day or two without being constantly up to date with the going’s-on of the Citadel. 

Well, Prompto could be very distracting, and he had no problem at all with giving Ignis a reason to stay in bed with him for a few days. 

“So quit fussing over me,” Prompto said. 

“You’re going to be in front of the  _ king  _ today, Prompto. You’re being sworn in as a member of the Crownsguard. It is a very formal ceremony, and you have a patch on your vest with the word ‘fuck’ on it.” 

“Don’t forget, it also says ‘bastard,’” Prompto said, injecting a little brightness into his words. Seeing that Ignis was also distressed oddly helped to cool his own anxiety over the upcoming day’s events. One of them had to be level-headed, after all. 

Wryly, Ignis replied, “Of course, how could I.” Ruefully, he sighed and dropped his hand to trace a finger over the offending patch. Prompto had been especially proud of that find. He’d taken the skull motif of the Crownsguard and he’d sort of run with it, though maybe he’d gone a little overboard. But he  _ liked  _ his patches. He’d never gone through a rebellious punk phase as a teen, though he’d always liked the style, and now he got to dress that way for work. 

“I’m sure His Majesty will like my patches,” Prompto said. “I’m just freaked out about having to talk in front of so many people.” He wouldn’t be speaking alone, but still. 

“Fear of public speaking is incredibly common,” Ignis said, “All you need to do is repeat after Cor and swear to protect crown and country with your life.”

“Oh, is that all,” Prompto said. His voice broke mid-sentence, and he made a piteous noise. 

“You’ll be fine,” Ignis said, cupping Prompto’s face in his hands and holding his gaze. “Just remember--the king is Your Majesty, not Your Highness. Only address the prince as Your Highness, and be sure to refer to Cor as Marshal Leonis. Stick to titles in general, stand up straight, and bow to the nobility.”

“Do I have to bow to Noct? Because I dunno if I can do that with a straight face,” Prompto said.

Ignis’ lips twitched, and he bent to peck Prompto on the mouth before releasing him. 

“Do try not to laugh,” he said. “I know you laugh when you’re nervous, and while I find it endearing not everyone will appreciate hearing you giggle through the whole ceremony.”

Of course, the very idea of that made Prompto giggle, and Ignis finally smiled outright. The tension in the air felt somewhat alleviated, and Prompto stepped back from his boyfriend as he smoothed his hands down the front of his body.

“Seriously, though. Do I look okay?” he asked, still grinning.

“You’re a vision of loveliness,” Ignis said cheekily, and Prompto stuck his tongue out at him. Then Ignis checked the clock on the wall and clucked his tongue. “You should get going now. I need to finish getting ready, and the marshal will want all the rookies gathered well before the ceremony begins.” 

Prompto sighed. Ignis had been so busy helping him get ready that he himself hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. He was going to be wearing his own new Crownsguard uniform that day, and Prompto hadn’t seen it yet. Currently, the uniform was hanging on the back of Ignis’ bedroom door inside one of those dry cleaning bags with the hanger-hole at the top. Prompto had tried to peek inside several times, but Ignis had decided it was funny to keep Prompto in the dark. 

“Okay,” Prompto said with a dramatic sigh.  Then he added hopefully, “Can I have a good luck kiss?” 

Ignis made a show of looking exasperated, but Prompto still walked out of his quarters thoroughly kissed. 

X

His nerves returned in full force as soon as he stepped out of the elevator and started making his way toward the front of the palace. The grand foyer was usually full of people coming and going, or standing around talking about politics. Today there were a lot of fancily dressed people loitering around, waiting to be escorted up to the throne room where they would watch the new Crownsguard being sworn in.

Prompto hadn’t realized it would be such a spectacle until the night before. Insomnia’s rich and famous took any excuse to make public appearances, according to Ignis. They needed to be “seen,” apparently. There was a small contingent of the press that were allowed in as well, though only a few photographers and reporters with handheld voice recorders were milling about that Prompto could see. He was glad there weren’t any glitzy camera crews in attendance. 

The Crownsguard recruits were being gathered in a small room off of the main foyer, so Prompto headed that way once he spotted Monica waving him over. He was halfway across the foyer when he glanced to the side, then stopped and did a double take. Two people were standing off to the side on their own, looking slightly out of place. Prompto changed course, and made a beeline for his parents. 

“Mom? Dad?” He had to make sure it was really them, here at the Citadel together and not at work or at home sleeping off a long shift. Their expressions brightened when they saw him, and they relaxed a little. They had looked noticeably uncomfortable surrounded by the Beautiful People.

“There you are sweetie!” his mom cooed as he got close enough for her to grab his hand. 

“I didn’t think you guys would be able to come,” he said, still a little shocked by their appearance. He had mentioned this day offhandedly to them, and he’d left the invitations that would get them into the Citadel on the kitchen table a week ago. He hadn’t really thought they’d come, though, after their misgivings about him joining the Crownsguard. 

“Of course we did,” Dad said, looking mildly offended, though his eyes twinkled in amusement. He was wearing a suit, and Mom wore a blouse with a pencil skirt, though nothing as expensive as anyone else in the room was wearing. Prompto hadn’t seen them this dressed up since he’d graduated from high school. 

“We wouldn’t miss your big day!” his mother said, and Prompto was mildly horrified to see that her eyes were wet. Immediately, his own throat tightened and both of his parents stepped forward to embrace him at the same time.

“Oh, knock it off,” he mumbled as he squeezed them both, “You’re gonna make me smudge my eyeliner.”

His father snorted, and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder as he stepped back. Mom was still looking weepy, though, so Prompto quickly excused himself before she could influence his own emotions any further. 

“I’ll see you guys afterwards, okay?” Maybe they could spend the day together, he thought as he hurried over to Monica, who was watching him with a smile. She must have seen the whole thing--everyone in the room probably had, but he couldn’t really bring himself to feel embarrassed. He was just happy his parents had been able to make it. 

X

Out of all of the recruits Prompto had encountered in training, only twenty were being sworn in that day. The others had dropped out or had not yet met their requirements. Those who were gathered at the Citadel that day mostly looked calm and collected, but a few were obviously nervous. Prompto was glad he wasn’t the only one. 

Cor, and several other high-ranking Crownsguard were speaking in hushed tones when Prompto walked into the room. Everyone was wearing black in the fashion of the Crownsguard, though Prompto’s uniform felt more elaborate than some of the others. Only a few of them sneered at him, which was a relief. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to make friends with them all, but he didn’t really need to since he was going to be part of Noct’s personal guard. 

Still, he felt the bite of being singled out as he watched everyone else form into chatting groups. If any of his own friends were there it wouldn’t have been so bad. The bolstered feeling he’d gotten from seeing his parents was already fading, so he pulled out his phone and checked his messages, then he scrolled through his various social media apps to kill time. He tried his best to ignore the creeping swell of anxiety that rose minute by minute as they all waited. 

When Cor announced that it was time to head to the throne room, it was actually a relief.  _ Time to get this over with, _ Prompto thought. Once it was done he wouldn’t have to worry about fumbling his words and making an ass of himself anymore. 

The foyer was mostly empty now as they marched across the polished marble floors toward the elevators. Everyone split into small groups in order to fit, and Prompto was glad to wind up riding in an elevator with the marshal. He was reasonably sure that Cor didn’t think he was a complete idiot, which was more than he could say for the rest of their group. 

“Argentum,” Cor said, giving him a nod. “Congratulations on making it this far.”

“Thank you, sir,” Prompto said, trying not to blush. 

Ignis’ worry over whether Prompto was attracted to Cor lingered now in the back of his head. It wasn’t like the marshal was  _ unattractive,  _ but he was like, forty, or something. Prompto never would have considered seeing Cor as anything but the Immortal, the marshal, and maybe a mentor. He still wasn’t attracted to Cor, but Ignis had put the idea in his head and Prompto was naturally awkward, so of course he was going to remember it every time the marshal looked at him, probably forever. 

He was still worrying over it as they stepped off the elevators and started for the throne room. Hushed conversation reached their ears from the hallway, and Cor instructed them to line up and wait until they were called forward. Then he entered the throne room with the other senior officers, leaving the new Crownsguard to wait in silence. 

“Hey, Argentum, what do the marshal’s boots taste like?” somebody hissed behind him. 

“Why don’t you tell me?” he muttered without thinking, irritated and embarrassed. There were snickers around him and a hiss of outrage, but nobody said anything else. 

Did everyone think there was something between him and Cor? No, it was just the same kind of stupid remark in the vein of him being the marshal’s pet recruit. Whoever had said it was just trying to bait him. He shouldn’t have even responded, he thought. They were about to be sworn in in front of the entire court. They were supposed to be professional. 

But he couldn’t stop thinking about it now. Cor did seem to pay special attention to him, but that was just because Prompto was going to be guarding Noct. Right? 

An announcer at the door called for them to come forward. A jolt went through Prompto, and he was half a beat behind the others as they began to file forward. His heart was rabbiting in his chest now, and his mouth had gone dry. Gods, was he even going to be able to talk? He hoped he didn’t start coughing. 

They entered the great, open chamber. People were lined up on either side of the room--and there were his parents.  _ Oh, jeez Mom, _ he thought with dismay when he saw she had her phone out to film him. She’d done the same thing when he’d graduated high school, but he’d been a lot more relieved and excited on that day than he was today. Finally getting to kiss high school goodbye and being sworn in as a bodyguard for the Prince of Lucis were two vastly different experiences. 

At the front of the throne room there was a staircase that led up to a wide platform. Cor stood there, along with Monica and a few other Crownsguard and several of the Kingsglaive. Above the platform rose the dais where the king sat on his throne. The council was in attendance, as was Noct, who was standing next to his father’s throne, bent over and whispering with the king. Both Shields, Gladio and Clarus Amicitia, flanked the prince and the king, as did Ignis, and...oh.

No wonder Ignis hadn’t wanted Prompto to see him in his Crownsguard uniform that morning. They never would have left Ignis’ rooms. This uniform wasn’t anything like Ignis’ usual neat suits that he wore while performing his advisory duties. He wore what looked like a leather jacket over a purple dress shirt, buttoned in the front and sporting a coerl-print pattern. Dark slacks tapered down his long legs, ending above highly polished shoes, and silver and black gloves adorned each of his hands. The top few buttons of that shirt were undone, and Prompto could see a hint of collarbone and the line of Ignis’ throat as it bobbed. He was talking to Gladio, his words inaudible above the light din, but Prompto swore he could hear the low purr of his boyfriend’s voice.

_ This is inhumane, _ he thought as his blood raced. Every other anxious thought had fled his mind in the face of this injustice. How the hell was he supposed to focus on anything else with Ignis looking like a godsdamned supermodel? The outfit was tailored perfectly for him, and despite the fact that Prompto had never seen Ignis wear anything like it before, the look suited him. More than suited him. It was  _ infuriatingly  _ suitable, in fact. 

Then Ignis spotted him, and something of Prompto’s thoughts must have shown on his face, because Ignis smirked at him--smirked!?--and then went back to his conversation with Gladio.

_ Rude! I can’t believe this, I’m going to...to... _ Prompto had been about to think that he was going to kick Ignis’ ass, but that would be a waste of the energy boiling in his blood. It was a good thing Ignis knew how to sew, because that uniform was going to be ripped off his body sometime in the next twenty-four hours. 

A hush fell over the room, and he had to tear his gaze away from Ignis. The king had risen from his chair and was leaning on his cane. Prompto had never actually met the man face to face before. There had never been any time for King Regis to entertain his son’s school friend, though Noct said his father liked Prompto. Or rather, he liked whatever Noct told him and Prompto was sure that his best friend exaggerated. 

“Crownsguard recruits,” Regis said. “Today you join the ranks of an honorable institution. As your King, I thank you for your willingness to stand guard between the royal family and the enemies of Lucis. Carry your titles with pride and faith.” 

Prompto realized that he no longer felt the pang of nerves twisting his stomach. The king had a commanding mien that belied his somewhat frail appearance. Something about his words had a bolstering effect, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t spoken for very long. 

Cor stepped forward, holding up a holy book. Prompto darted another glance at Ignis and saw that his boyfriend was now regarding him with a look of strong affection and warmth. A similar warmth pooled in Prompto’s stomach, and he felt steady and calm for the first time in days. 

“Crownsguard,” Cor said, his voice carrying over their heads. “Repeat after me.”

X

After the ceremony, the king descending his dais and shook each of their hands. Prompto was still riding on a wave of confidence and held it close as he approached Noct’s father. 

“Prompto Argentum,” Regis said, smiling at him as if they were old friends, “You need no introduction. I’m pleased to see you join the Crownsguard.” He took Prompto’s hand in a strong grip, his hands marked with calluses from his own days of training with the sword. 

“Oh, than-thank you, sir--er, Your Majesty!” Prompto said, and he felt heat prickle up the back of his neck. 

The corners of the king’s eyes crinkled as his smile widened. “You have been a good friend to my son,” he said. “I trust that you will watch over him well in the coming years.”

“Yes,” Prompto said, “I will, Your Majesty.” Regis patted the back of his hand, then released him, and Prompto performed a little bow the way Ignis had showed him. 

He felt giddy as he stepped to the side and saw Noct grinning at him. “Nerd,” Noct mouthed silently, and Prompto was powerless to retaliate with the entire court watching. Ignis was beside Noct, and he looked like he wanted to reach for Prompto and was having trouble holding himself back. Prompto felt the same urge, and gave Ignis a rueful smile.  _ Later, _ he thought, and he saw the same idea reflected on Ignis’ face. 

Sighing, he turned away and descended the stairs instead--and ran into his parents. 

“Mom, stop it,” he scolded when he saw her dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue.

“I’m your mother, I’m allowed to cry,” she shot back. 

“You’re embarrassing the boy,” Dad said, though he was grinning like he found the whole thing funny. 

“No I’m not, shut up,” Mom retorted with a sniff.

Prompto sighed, but he wasn’t really embarrassed. Well, not very, anyway. Not until his mom stepped in close with a conspiratorial look on her face.

“Is that him?” she stage-whispered. 

Prompto blinked at her, confused. “Him, who?” He turned, following her line of sight, and saw Ignis talking to Clarus Amicitia, distracted for the moment. Prompto felt a twinge of alarm and turned back to his mother. “I don’t know what you--”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t lie to your mother, sweetie. I saw the way you were looking at each other.” Dad looked bemused by the exchange, glancing back and forth between the two of them and the crowd of people up on the platform. Prompto shot his mother a pleading look. Nobody knew, yet, and she had promised. 

Thankfully, she relented, taking pity on him. Her pointed look told him there would be more teasing later, though.  _ Great. _

“They’re having a luncheon after we’re done here,” Prompto said, awkwardly changing the subject. “It’s in the grand ballroom. I’ll show you--er, if you have time.”

“Of course,” Dad said. “We both have the day off.”

“We know how hard you worked all summer,” Mom added, reaching for his hand. “This is important to you.”

Prompto couldn’t imagine how much his parents had had to rearrange their schedules to pull this off. They must have had other people covering their shifts for them, doing them favors so they could spend time with him. 

“You guys are jerks,” he said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as his eyes prickled. A tissue was pressed into his hand, and he gave them both a watery smile. “You did all this just to make me cry in front of my friends.” They both laughed, and he stepped forward to drag them into a hug. “Thanks,” he whispered. 

When he stepped back to usher them toward the hall, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Ignis watching. He was smiling, and he made a “go on,” gesture, mouthing “Later.” 

_ Right, _ Prompto thought.  _ Later.  _

X

Prompto: hey Igster, you coming to this lunch?  
Prompto: i’m goin ham on these tiny sandwiches  
Prompto: my mom is stealing food, she’s got a purse full of horse divorce  
Iggy: Prompto, are you trying to spell hors d'oeuvres?  
Prompto: my way is funnier  
Iggy: Indeed  
Iggy: You have fun with your parents. His Majesty needs to speak with Noct and I.  
Prompto: ),:  
Prompto: ok ))’:  
Iggy: Don’t be so dramatic.  
Prompto: ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡  
Prompto: btw my mom thinks ur cute  
Iggy: Pardon me?  
Prompto: she saw you when you were undressing me with your eyes and she just told me ‘congratulations’ bc you’re so handsome  
Iggy: I don’t know what to do with this information.  
Iggy: Did you tell your parents about us?  
Prompto: my mom used her mom powers and figured it out  
Prompto: also you were in the shower when she came home the other day  
Prompto: but she only just guessed it was you today  
Iggy: Can we discuss this when I’m not in a meeting?  
Iggy: I need time to process this.  
Prompto: lol ok babe  
Prompto: she wants to meet you  
Iggy: Dear gods.  
Prompto: ♡♡♡  
Prompto: check you later ;)  
Iggy: ಠ_ಠ  
Prompto: (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)

 

X

The last time Prompto had spent an entire day with his parents was probably when he was ten and they took him to a country fair on the outskirts of the city. He didn’t remember much from that day aside seeing a chocobo in real life for the first time and being utterly enchanted. That, and crying when he bit into a candy apple and lost his last baby tooth. 

Granted, today hadn’t been an  _ entire  _ day, but he spent the afternoon hanging around the touristy areas near the Citadel with his parents. Insomnia had been trying more and more in recent years to attract tourism, so there were renovated shopping areas with dozens of different kinds of restaurants and local attractions. People grumbled about foreigners all the time, but for the most part nobody paid attention to sightseers because they were there to spend money.

Prompto had changed out of his Crownsguard uniform after the luncheon and he let his parents drag him from shop to shop. They got ice cream, and wandered around a large open square lined with movable kiosks that sold the kind of useless trinkets that only tourists bought. So of course his parents wanted to spend their money there. 

Dad bought an embarrassing yellow and white hat, like something out of the Cat in the Hat’s nightmares, and refused to take it off for the rest of the day. Mom had to buy every piece of kitschy jewelry she could get her hands on, which she claimed was going to give out as gifts to her coworkers. 

Prompto was glad he was too old to be self-conscious around his embarrassing parents, because frankly they were really going for the gold that day. He was honestly disappointed when Dad tapped out near dinnertime, and was quickly seconded by Mom. 

“We love you, honey, but we’re old and we need to go to bed,” his mother explained when he started pouting. “But you go be with your _ friends. _ ” She gave him a theatrical wink at that, and Prompto dragged a hand down his face with a low groan. He’d known she would act this way when she found out he was in a relationship, and yet somehow he was unprepared. 

In the end, he walked them to the train station and hugged them goodbye, and then walked back to the Citadel in the early-evening light. There were dozens of new pictures on his camera that he’d have to sort through at some point, but most of them were group shots with his parents. He tended to be less discerning when he was taking pictures for fun rather than with artistic intentions (though he was still more judgemental of his photographs than most people would be). 

All in all, it had been a really good day. He was pretty tired by that point himself, but not enough to call it a night. Maybe he could drag Ignis away from his desk and convince him to spend the evening winding down with a movie and popcorn. Noct and Gladio could come too, as long as they didn’t mind watching Prompto and Ignis having another cuddle party.

Things had quieted down at the Citadel by the time Prompto returned. Everyone who had come to watch the ceremony, including the press, had cleared out hours ago, and everything was back to business as usual. Prompto had his shiny new ID badge and a keycard that could get him into select secure areas without an escort or too much additional scrutiny, and tomorrow he would be reporting for his first day of actual guard work. There was still time on his schedule dedicated to training, but from now on he’d be working officially as a Crownsguard.

The idea gave him goosebumps, but Noct had assured him that it would mostly be a lot of boring standing around and looking intimidating. “Just follow Gladio’s lead and you’ll be fine,” the prince had said. Which was all well and good, but Prompto was not an intimidating individual by any stretch. Well, at least Prompto could spend the day with his friends, though he imagined that while they were on duty there would be a lot less dicking around than usual. 

As he stepped off the elevator and into the corridor where Ignis’ office was located, he could hear the distinct sound of arguing voices. Frowning, he saw that Ignis’ office door was open--he could make out the raspy whisper of Noct’s voice--angry--and Ignis’ low burr--placating. Hearing Noct have it out with Ignis wasn’t entirely unheard of, but it always made Prompto want to shrink into a corner when his friends were having an argument. 

Steeling himself, he made his way to open office door. Really, he had no idea what he planned to do other than knock on the doorframe and hope that he threw them off. As it turned out, his intervention wasn’t needed. When he was five feet away, Noct came bursting out of the office, still dressed in his own Crownsguard fatigues, like he’d never had a chance to change out of them. Rather than looking angry, there was something pained and frustrated in his expression, and he had a hand bracing against his lower back.

“I understand that--,” Ignis was saying, following in Noct’s wake. He bit off the rest of what he was going to say when he saw Prompto standing there, but Noct was already turning to interrupt him at the same time.

“You  _ don’t  _ understand. I don’t want  _ them  _ there,” Noct said, almost spitting the words. Ignis looked like he was at a loss, mouth opening and closing ineffectively. Noct just shook his head, shoulders sagging as the fight went out of him. “My back hurts. I’m going to bed.” 

Without another word, he strode past Prompto, barely sparing a glance when Prompto attempted to greet him. Prompto watched until he disappeared into the elevator, then turned to Ignis with a questioning look.

“What was that about?” he asked, hearing the worry in his words.

Ignis sighed, and gestured for Prompto to follow him into his office, closing the door behind him. “Noctis...disagrees with something that was decided upon in a meeting today. It has to do with his mother.”

Prompto blinked and felt a jolt of shock run through him. This was the first time he’d heard anyone close to Noct mention the queen, since...well, since the first time Prompto had ever spoken to Ignis, come to think. Ignis had pulled teenaged Prompto aside and given him a short, intense lecture about how the prince’s safety was important above all else, and blah, blah, blah, by the way, don’t bring up the queen if you know what’s good for you. 

That particular conversation had ramped up Prompto’s anxiety to a twelve out of ten for about a month as he imagined constant assassination attempts and bumbled conversations that would make Noct despise him. Fortunately, their time together was more sedate, filled with studying/homework sessions, video games, and trips to the Crow’s Nest that Prompto faithfully jogged off the morning after. 

He figured Ignis had been overstating things--teen Iggy had had much more of a stick up his butt than he did now in his determination to be taken seriously. But Prompto and Noct’s friendship was entirely normal for two teenaged boys, aside from Noct’s whining about training or otherwise engaging in princely duties. 

“Oh?” was all Prompto could manage to say. He was still nervous about discussing the queen. People whispered about her behind their hands sometimes, about how sad her condition was for the royal family. Every few years there would be a special story on the news about the attack on Noct and his mother, and the queen’s imprisonment in Niflheim. Noct would withdraw entirely from the public eye for a few days, ignore all of his calls and messages, and then suddenly reappear and act like nothing was wrong. Prompto always wanted to comfort his friend, but any attempts to do so, any signs of pity or empathy were not taken well. Not when it came to his mother.

Another sigh. Ignis moved over to his desk and slumped down into his chair. Slumped. Ignis wasn’t the slouching sort, nor was he the type to show his exhaustion, but in that moment he looked infinitely weary. 

Prompto was torn, for a moment. He wanted to go after his friend, to cajole Noct into talking about why he was upset even though he knew he would be rebuffed. But then, he also wanted to stay here and comfort his boyfriend. The two desires warred for several seconds, but in the end he knew it was better to let Noct cool off for a day or two before offering any emotional support. When he was angry, he needed to fume, and when he was upset, he needed to mope, to get it all out of his system.

The decision made him feel a twinge of guilt, regardless of any kind of sound reasoning. It felt like he was choosing his boyfriend over his friend, even though he would never do something like that. But really, who took priority in a situation like this? Ignis was his friend, too, after all. 

_ Okay, come on, stop wallowing, _ he told himself, drumming his fingers against his upper thighs as he tried to shake off the distracting line of thought. 

On a breath, he moved forward and circled Ignis’ desk, then he bent at the waist and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Ignis was tense beneath his hands, almost resistant to being physically comforted--but then he relented. He heaved his third sigh in as many minutes, reaching up to tug off his glasses before leaning forward and resting his forehead just below Prompto’s sternum. 

“Thank the Six this will all be over soon,” he said, and his voice sounded taut, strained, like a tightrope ready to snap. One of his arms wound around Prompto’s waist, holding him there, the other hand resting in his own lap, holding his glasses. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this knackered in my life. I believe I’m owed a vacation.” Ignis tried to inject some humor into that last sentence, but Prompto could sense the frustration, the exhaustion, the stress. For the entire summer he’d been working like a dog, and it showed now that his facade had cracked. Ignis looked pale, his eyes bloodshot and sporting faint dark circles underneath, and his hair was mussed, as if he’d been anxiously running his fingers through the glossy strands. Only his dashing uniform still looked immaculate.

Prompto smoothed a hand over Ignis’ shoulder blades, lip worried between his teeth. The new leather coat was warmed from Ignis’ body heat, invitingly so. For once, though, Prompto’s thoughts didn’t stray toward the physical. His heart ached for Ignis; he wanted to do something for his boyfriend, cheer him up somehow. Maybe a can of Ebony and a back rub? That might make Ignis smile, but Prompto wanted more than that. He wanted to make Ignis forget about his duties, if only for a few minutes.

An idea came to him then, just silly enough that he felt a twinge of nerves to even consider it. But he thought it might do the trick. Ignis wasn’t as serious and rigid as Prompto had once thought he was, and the spontaneity of Prompto’s idea might appeal to him.

Trying not to draw attention to it, he freed one hand and from his pocket he withdrew his phone, surreptitiously opening his music app. This’ll work, he told himself as he scrolled through his various playlists. He found the song he wanted, and hesitated. What if Ignis didn't...Prompto took a deep breath and pressed play. 

A steady beat filled the room as he set the phone on the desk--Slow Hands, which was a fun and romantic song, right? Ignis lifted his head, glancing up, frowning slightly as Prompto stepped back. “Prompto, what…?” he trailed off, looking at the hand Prompto was holding out like he'd never seen anything like it before. “You're serious?” he asked, tone worryingly flat.

Prompto offered him a shy little smile and didn't withdraw his hand. “Dance with me, Iggy?”

Something...trembled in Ignis’ expression as he replaced his glasses. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all. For a split second Prompto was sure he saw a glimmer of wetness in his boyfriend’s eyes, but then Ignis firmly grasped his hand and stood in one fluid motion. 

Prompto felt his breath catch, and instinctively drew Ignis in close. He realized belatedly that he had no idea where to put his hands, but Ignis sensed the hesitation and did some hasty rearranging. Meanwhile, Prompto watched Ignis’ face carefully and his heart flipped at the lightness he saw there, the easing of tension. 

The small knot of anxiety that had formed in Prompto’s chest unwound.  _ All right, _ he thought.  _ No backing out now. _

Dancing wasn’t Prompto’s strong suit, but he decided that didn't matter. Ignis was grinning in open amusement and delight seconds after Prompto began to lead him in sloppy circles around the room. He didn't make any effort to correct Prompto’s steps, though Ignis’ own movements were butter-smooth, the mark of someone who had taken dancing lessons. Just another thing the royal advisor would probably have needed to learn, so he could charm the court ladies at parties. 

_ Just don't step on his feet, _ Prompto told himself over and over. Somehow, he managed not to fumble completely, or leave a dusty footprint on Ignis’ shiny shoes. Ignis was smiling so widely that his eyes were crinkled at the corners, and he even laughed out loud when Prompto made a valiant attempt to twirl him. 

“You're quite the dancer,” Ignis chuckled, and Prompto stepped in close, pressing their bodies together. 

“Liar,” he said, but he was grinning too, pleased with his own success. Their movements slowed, fingers intertwined on Prompto’s right. Prompto had a hand on Ignis’ hip, and Ignis’ free hand came slipped up to cup Prompto’s neck as they swayed. 

Slow Hands ended much too soon for Prompto’s liking, and As Long As You Love Me began to play. Prompto blushed, but Ignis only laughed again. He leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together. 

“You are wonderful,” Ignis murmured. His eyes shone, all his troubles momentarily forgotten. Triumphant, Prompto tilted his head up and pressed their lips briefly together. Now they weren't moving at all, just standing in the middle of Ignis’ office holding each other. 

“I just wanted to cheer you up,” Prompto murmured. He leaned into the heat of Ignis’ body, love thrumming through his chest, through his very being. There was so much affection in Ignis’ gaze, in the way he stroked his thumb along Prompto’s jaw. “Did it work?” 

“Oh, yes,” Ignis told him. Their lips met again, mouths slanted together. Prompto nibbled Ignis’ lower lip, then pulled back and kissed his jaw. Ignis sighed again, a contented noise this time, and buried his face against Prompto’s neck, nuzzling.

With a soft laugh, Prompto scratched his fingers through the glossy hair at Ignis’ nape. “You're so cuddly,” he crooned. 

Ignis hummed in agreement, and hugged Prompto more tightly. His lips found purchase on a ticklish patch of skin and Prompto snorted another laugh and tried to wriggle away. A mouth trailed teasingly up to his ear, and Ignis whispered in his ear, “Thank you, dearest.” 

“No problemo, babe,” Prompto said, still grinning as Ignis straightened. He gave Ignis a wink, and the smile on his boyfriend's face softened.

“How did I ever get so lucky?” Ignis asked quietly. His fingers grasped Prompto’s chin, scrutinizing him as if the answer to that question lay somewhere amongst Prompto’s freckles. 

For his part, Prompto was couldn’t answer, his throat tightening with unexpected emotion. He had to swallow hard before he could rasp out, “You got that backwards, Igster.” His attempt at lightening his tone failed miserably when his voice cracked, but Ignis still smiled. 

“I was meaning to ask you,” he said, teasing a lock of Prompto’s hair between his fingers, “Would you send me a copy of that picture you took of us at the museum? I should like to frame it and keep it on my desk, once we announce our relationship.” 

“Jeez, Iggy,” Prompto breathed, hiding his face against his boyfriend’s chest. “Do you wanna make me cry? Of course I'll send it to you.”

Ignis responded by wrapping his arms around Prompto’s shoulders. Firmly ensconced, Prompto sighed and hugged him back. He felt Ignis’ lips pressing into his hair, and had to stifle a giggle when his boyfriend inhaled deeply. Prompto liked to smell good, but he couldn't afford anything fancy. He hoped his generic brand shampoo was to Ignis’ liking, because Astrals knew Ignis always smelled incredible.

“When all of this is over,” Ignis said, “I’m taking some time off. Would you...would you like to accompany me for a weekend retreat?” Before Prompto could answer he hurriedly added, “I don’t think we can leave the city on such short notice, but there are plenty lovely cabins and hotels in Insomnia that we can escape to. What do you say?”

Prompto wanted to wipe everything off of Ignis’ desk and shove him down on top of it, but he doubted his boyfriend would be turned on by Prompto making such a mess. “Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, babe. Anything you want.”

Ignis actually beamed at him, boyish and excited, and Prompto felt his brain melt into goo.  _ Nobody should be as gorgeous as Ignis Scientia, _ he thought, letting himself be drawn into a kiss that fried the rest of his self-control. He gladly let himself be drawn into Ignis' warmth, all other worries fading into the back of his mind.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t sure what song I wanted to use for this scene until I saw this [art.](http://whipbogard.tumblr.com/post/164334749431/there-aint-no-stopping-your-plans-and-those-slow)
> 
> Also, I just finished writing a 50k word fic for the promnis big bang, so keep an eye out for that making an appearance sometime this month.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS TIME. Twenty-two chapters and we're only just now getting to the peace conference. Thank you for sticking with me! I wouldn't have gotten this far if it wasn't for you guys and all your support! <3<3<3<3

Prompto should have been expecting that his first official Crownsguard assignment would be something that nobody else wanted to do. 

He woke up that day to the enticing smells of breakfast wafting into Ignis’ bedroom; Ignis was in the kitchenette, Prompto found, humming softly to himself as he worked his magic. Prompto was glad to see that Ignis looked refreshed, more bright-eyed than he’d been in days. 

They ate breakfast together in the early hours in a comfortable silence. Without really being aware of what he was doing, Prompto dragged his bare ankle against Ignis’ leg under the table. He only stopped when he saw Ignis watching him with a surreptitious little grin, and still didn’t realize he’d been unintentionally playing footsie until Ignis gave him a gentle nudge with his own foot.

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbled with a half-shrug, sheepish. “I fidget.”

“I’d noticed,” Ignis intoned dryly. Clearly he didn’t mind, so Prompto left his foot where it was.

Prompto was wondering if he had enough time to go for a run before he showered and put on his uniform when Ignis made a show of checking the clock on the wall. “Oh my, you’d better hurry. Don’t want to be late to your first day on the job,” he said with exaggerated alarm as he stood to collect Prompto’s plate.

“What? But--wait. You sound smug, Iggy.” Prompto narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but Ignis just smiled benignly as his eyes flicked again to the clock. Groaning, Prompto jumped out of his chair as Ignis carried the dishes back into the kitchenette for washing. “Iggggyy!”

“Tut-tut, my dear. I’ll let you shower first. Better get on with it,” Ignis called over his shoulder. Prompto stood there for a moment by the dining table, indecisive, then with another groan he turned and hurried into the bathroom. He showered quickly and emerged freshly scrubbed to find Ignis reclining casually on the sofa in the sitting area, reading something on a glowing tablet screen like he had all the time in the world.

“Well?” Prompto asked when Ignis didn’t acknowledge him.

“Well, what?” Ignis asked, still sounding utterly, unconvincingly innocent. “You ought to get down to the locker rooms and change into your uniform, darling. I’m sure your assignment has already been posted.”

“Okay,” Prompto said slowly. He was wearing regular jeans and a t-shirt at the moment, clothing he’d left in Ignis’ rooms so he’d have clean things to wear when he slept over. His uniform was all the way down in the Crownsguard facility, though, hanging neatly in his locker. 

When it became clear that Ignis wasn’t going to say anything else, Prompto sighed and went over to kiss him goodbye. They would probably be seeing each other throughout the day, but it was unlikely they’d get any time to themselves until sometime that evening.

“Have a good day, dearest,” Ignis said airily as he set aside his tablet and accepted a peck on the lips. 

Something was fishy about all this. It occurred to Prompto when he was already stepping into the elevator down the hall that Ignis had been oddly unhurried and relaxed that morning. He hadn’t even showered or dressed yet, even though he’d been up and about before Prompto awoke. Really, it had been a very nice morning, but at the same time it was...weird. 

The locker room was bustling with all of the Crownsguard who were on the early shifts. Prompto was pleasantly surprised when he was offered several friendly greetings along the lines of, “Hey Rookie, good luck out there,” along with smiles and rough pats on the shoulder. The warm reception even felt sincere, which was almost off-putting after the thinly veiled hostility or indifference he’d received from some of the recruits. 

By the time he’d changed into his uniform and engaged shyly in some of the locker room banter, he’d forgotten about Ignis’ strange behavior. He was bouncing on his heels as he wound his way over to the roster board where daily duty assignments were posted. Everything was coded into a shorthand that he still found somewhat inscrutable, but he recognized some of the patrol patterns that his comrades had been assigned to.

Next to his own name, however, was a single phrase, simple and neatly penned in Ignis’ familiar hand:  _ Tend to His Royal Highness _ . 

Was that...it? Tend to Noct? He’d been expecting he’d have to report to somebody to receive more detailed orders, but if all he had to do was go find Noct, then--

A hand dropped heavily onto his shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “Hey, Blondie,” Gladio greeted him, gruff but jovial. Prompto tossed him a dirty look and shrugged his hand off, but Gladio just smirked at him. “I see Iggy’s not gonna go easy on ya after all,” he said, nodding at the roster.

“What do you mean?” Prompto said, brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

“‘Tend to His Royal Highness, oh-seven-hundred hours’,” Gladio recited with a significant look. “What is Noct usually doing at seven in the morning?” 

A beat passed, and then Prompto groaned for the third time that morning, pressing his face into his hands.  _ That  _ was why Ignis had seemed so laid back that morning. He hadn’t had to leave early in order to go drag Noct out of bed.

Prompto heard the rustling of paper and a small gust of wind against his hands, and let them drop away from his face. Gladio was waving a piece of paper at him, which he took.  _ Noct’s schedule for the day, _ Prompto thought; it was printed on some high quality paper with Ignis’ letterhead at the top. The prince was due to attend a meeting at nine, which meant he needed to be awake and presentable in two hours. And he was no doubt in a foul mood still from whatever had happened the previous evening, so it was going to be doubly hard to get him out of bed. 

“You better get on it,” Gladio said. “Lucky for you Noct slept at the palace last night, so you don’t have to deal with the morning commute.”

“This is hazing,” Prompto grumbled as he folded the piece of paper and tucked it into the inside pocket of his vest. “The Crownsguard must have rules against hazing, right?” 

Gladio snorted, and have Prompto a friendly shove of encouragement. “If you wanna write up an official complaint and submit it to Cor, that’s your prerogative, kid.” 

Prompto couldn’t imagine Cor would find something like that amusing in the least. He sighed, resigned to his fate, but he also remembered how tranquil Ignis had been that morning. If Prompto “tending” to Noct could could ease some of Ignis’ workload, then he ought to be glad to help. Even if Noct being in a bad mood made things awkward--but Prompto had an idea about that. 

“All right, all right, I’m going,” he huffed as Gladio grabbed him by the shoulders and began to steer him out of the locker room. “Get off me, Titan Junior.” 

Gladio’s snort of laughter was all the response Prompto received before shrugging the larger man off and running for the door.

X

Predictably, when Prompto arrived at Noct’s rooms at the Citadel and knocked on the door, there was no answer. There was an older Crownsguard on duty outside the door, guarding the prince while he slept, who gave Prompto a “good luck kid” roll of his eyes before nodding for him to head inside. 

Noct’s rooms were dark, all the curtains drawn, and Prompto flicked on the lightswitch by the door so he’d be able to make his way across the living area without tripping over anything. It was obvious that it had been a while since anybody had lived in the royal apartment full time. Noct hadn’t really bothered to decorate after he’d moved out, so most of the furniture was plain and there were no personal touches like photographs or coats slung over chairs. 

Prompto moved over to the bedroom door near the back of the living area and knocked again. Again, there was no answer, so he sucked in a breath and turned the handle. This room, too, was bathed in darkness. Light from the front room washed around him and fell dramatically upon a large bed against the far wall, illuminating a lump in the blankets that could only be Noct. His boots had been kicked off carelessly by the doorway, and Prompto stepped over them as he considered the best way to approach this. 

Grabbing Noct by the ankles and dragging him out of bed spitting mad would be the fastest, most Gladio-approved method, but Prompto didn’t want to start the day off with a kick to the face. He had a feeling Ignis would be too busy laughing to kiss his bruises all better, too, and Noct would be unrepentant. So instead, Prompto walked over to the bed, sat on the unoccupied side, and then swung his legs up onto the mattress and stretched out with a sigh. 

“Man, I thought the prince of Lucis would have a more comfortable bed,” he said as he smoothed his hands over the comforter. It was the first thing that popped into his head, and it was true. This mattress was still better than Prompto’s at home, but it was nothing compared to Iggy’s. “Why don’t you have them get the same kind of mattress that you have in your apartment? That’s a lot softer.”

“Proomm,” Noct croaked from under the blanket. “The fuck.” 

Prompto rolled onto his side so he was facing the Noct-shaped lump under the blankets, propping his head up on his hand. “These rooms are a lot bigger than your apartment, though. More space for hide and seek. Or murder-in-the-dark, since, y’know--” Prompto waved his hand around at the darkened room even though Noct couldn’t see him, “--you’ve adopted the lifestyle of a vampire.” 

“Ignis sent you, didn’t he?” Noct grumbled. “Tell him I’m sleeping.” 

“Are you still mad at him?” Prompto asked, attempting a nonchalant tone and only partly failing as his voice quieted toward the end. He began plucking at imaginary lint on the comforter and realized he was jiggling his leg, making the mattress shake. 

Silence greeted Prompto’s question, and for a minute he just watched the comforter rise and fall minutely with Noct’s breathing. He was rethinking his ankle-grabbing idea when Noct finally sighed. 

“I wasn’t mad at Specs,” Noct said, voice muffled by his cocoon. “It’s the council. And my dad, too, I guess. They just decide things without asking me, or telling me.”

“You normally don’t really seem to mind that. Less work for you,” Prompto said, and he heard Noct scoff. Biting his lip, Prompto gathered his thoughts and decided to take a gamble. “Is it...Ignis said it had something to do with your mom.” 

Noct went still under the blanket and Prompto nervously wound his fingers into the fabric, bunching it up in his gloved fist. “He told you?” Noct asked, and his voice sounded unexpectedly small. 

“No,” Prompto said quickly, “Not any details.”

There was silence again for a moment, and then the blanket shifted and was tossed back. Noct sat up and ran a hand through his bed hair--in the light that spilled in from the next room he looked unusually pale. 

“Ugh. What time is it?” he groaned. 

“Like seven-twenty by now,” Prompto answered without bothering to look at his phone. 

“Guess I’m lucky I don’t have Specs looming over me using his disappointed dad voice to get me out of bed,” Noct said with a yawn. He gave Prompto a squinty-eyed look. “I bet he’s a lot nicer to you in the morning.”

Heat washed across Prompto’s cheeks and he smiled, giving a half-shrug. “Well, I’m not as difficult and spoiled as you are-ah!” With surprising speed, Noct grabbed his pillow and threw it at Prompto’s face. “Rude,” Prompto huffed as he shoved the pillow aside, “I didn’t think you could move that fast in the morning.” 

“Practice,” Noct yawned, looking pitifully at the pillow that was now out of reach. The other pillow was pinned beneath Prompto’s elbow, effectively hampering any attempts the prince might make to lie back down. “Gladio will take a pillow to the face, but he always makes me run extra laps after. And Specs…,” Noct shuddered, as if a punishment from Ignis didn’t bear repeating. 

“I’ll have to ask him for ideas,” Prompto said with a wicked grin. “So, are you up?”

Noct glowered for a moment, but the effect was ruined by another yawn. “Yeah, I’m up.” He sounded none too happy about it, but he stood up and shuffled toward the bathroom. Prompto sat up on the edge of the bed, wary of leaving before he was sure Noct was in the shower. Normally it was harder than this to rouse his best friend, and he wouldn’t put it past Noct to sit down on the bed “just for a second” only to fall back to sleep. 

“Hey, Prom?” Noct said. He’d paused at the bathroom door and was standing there with his back to Prompto, nervously smoothing his hand along the door jamb.

“Yeah, buddy?” Prompto said.

“I’m glad you joined the Crownsguard, y’know that? I know it was my idea and I kinda sprang it on you, but you really fit. Having you here...makes it easier.” Noct wasn’t looking at him, was sort of hanging his head in fact, shoulders hunched like he was uncomfortable. Whatever it was that was happening with him, with his mother, it had put him in a strange state of mind. Prompto knew that was the reason for this heartfelt moment, that Noct was trying to tell him something a little bit deeper than what he was actually able to voice.

“I’m glad I’m here, too, Noct,” Prompto murmured, clasping his hands in his lap. What he wanted was to spring across the room and crush his friend in a hug, but Noct was already looking squirmy as it was. Maybe later, once he was a little less grumpy about being woken up so early. 

Noct released a slow breath, then stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. As if on cue, Prompto felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it free. A smirk came to his face, unbidden.

**Iggy:** Has His Highness been roused?

Prompto could hear Ignis’ sly drawl in his head, and rolled his eyes.

**Prompto:** yup  
**Prompto:** it was easy idky you and Gladio always take so long  
**Iggy:** Ah. Then you won’t mind tending to Noct in the morning as a daily assignment.

_ Guess I deserved that, _ Prompto thought with a wince. He sent Ignis a winking, kissy-faced emoji, and then got up as he heard the shower start in the bathroom. Ignis usually at least made Noct breakfast when he came to help the prince prepare for the day. Prompto was no Iggy in the kitchen, but he figured he might as well give it a shot.  _ And maybe if I do a bad enough job, Noct will complain and beg Ignis to come back,  _ he thought with a snicker. 

X

“When I’m king, I’m gonna make it illegal to wake me up before noon.” Noct’s familiar morning whining followed Prompto down the hall two days later as they made their way through an eerily empty Citadel. 

Almost no one was up at the crack of dawn in the royal wing, and those that were had already vacated the area as they reported for duty. Prompto was sleepy himself that morning--he’d been jogging at night lately since his morning routine had been so drastically altered, and then spending most of his evenings relaxing either with Ignis or Noct. Relaxing with Noct--which was what he’d done last night--usually meant staying up late playing video games. Both of them had sworn they’d go to bed early, but Prompto remembered looking up from a Tekken match and being surprised to see that it was nearly one in the morning. 

Less than five hours later the two boys had been dragging themselves out of bed with plentiful grumbling. Prompto had been much less delicate rousing Noct that morning, almost literally shoving him off the edge of his bed to get him moving. Thankfully Noct had been sleeping at the palace all week, too wrapped up in last minute preparations to bother going back to his apartment at the end of the day. Prompto had been spared the need to take one of the palace cars to drive across town to pick the prince up.

Nervous energy precluded most of Prompto’s own exhaustion, though. Noct was dragging his feet while he still had the chance, looking dour. “It’s gonna be fine,” Prompto said, mostly to himself. 

“I know it’ll be fine,” Noct said. “I’ll finally be able to get a decent twelve hours of sleep.”

“Not that,” Prompto scoffed, “Today.”

“Oh, yeah,” Noct said, as if he’d forgotten. Offhandedly, he added, “It’s no big deal, right. We’re just going to pick up Luna. And her family.” 

He made it sound like they were driving out to the suburbs to pick up a friend rather than leaving Insomnia altogether. Prompto had never been outside of the city--well, that he remembered. He knew he wasn’t a native Insomnian, so it was possible he’d been born outside of the walls, but that didn’t count. His camera bag was strapped over his shoulder, and he reached down to pet the casing. This wasn’t a sightseeing trip, of course, but no way was he gonna pass up the chance to take pictures of places he’d never been able to see before. 

“Dude,” Prompto whined as they reached Ignis’ quarters, “Aren’t you even a little excited? Or nervous? Hardly anyone ever goes outside the walls.”

“I’ve seen it,” Noct said with a shrug, and Prompto felt a twinge of chagrin. Of course Noct had seen it. He’d been traveling with his mother outside of the city when the Empire had attacked them, and he’d been to Tenebrae, too. But Prompto knew from the set of Noct’s shoulders and the flat expression on his face that he was tense and trying not to show it.  _ Probably screaming on the inside,  _ Prompto thought. 

“Well, _ I  _ haven’t,” Prompto said, and he pouted for dramatic effect. Noct’s lips twitched and he gave Prompto a playful shove. Prompto shoved him back, and they would have devolved into a wrestling match if Ignis hadn’t opened the door to his rooms at that moment. 

“Ah, how lovely,” he said in a dry tone as the two younger men froze. “Already causing a ruckus, are we?” 

“Noct started it,” Prompto said, and he gave Ignis his best lopsided grin. “Do I smell pancakes?” 

Ignis sighed and stepped back to let them enter. “Yes, but I’m not sure either of you deserves any.” They filed past him and Prompto saw that Gladio was already seated at the small dining table working through a foot-tall stack of pancakes. He greeted Noct and Prompto with an incomprehensible series of grunts that had Ignis scolding him. “Don’t speak with your mouth full, Gladiolus.” 

Prompto heard the door click shut behind him, then before he could move toward the table a hand took hold of his arm and turned him. He made a soft noise as Ignis pulled him close and kissed him briefly. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Prompto said with a grin. Ignis was wearing his Crownsguard uniform--as were they all--and there was a particular warmth in his eyes that made Prompto’s heartbeat speed up.

“I missed you last night,” Ignis murmured, speaking low for their ears only. 

“Oh,” Prompto whispered, grinning, slowly encircling his arms around Ignis’ waist. “Me too.” Sleeping next to Noct’s blanket-burritoed body was nothing like getting to curl up in Ignis’ arms at night. 

They leaned in at the same time for another kiss when Gladio spoke, this time unencumbered by a mouthful of flapjack, “You two should sell tickets to this show.” 

Ignis gave Prompto’s arms a light squeeze, frowning over the shorter man’s shoulder at Gladio. Prompto had no doubt that Gladio was leering at them, and he deliberately leaned up to kiss the corner of Ignis’ mouth before pulling back. 

“Hey Gladdy, why don’t you tell us about your mystery girlfriend?” Prompto asked as he headed for the kitchenette. He shoved Gladio’s shoulder as he passed the table, but the big guy barely budged. 

“Wouldn’t wanna steal your thunder,” Gladio said, nonchalant. They’d all been teasing him for days now about his ongoing nights out, but he’d remained smugly unaffected by their jibes. He was also much sneakier about the whole thing than such a musclebound gym-rat should be--none of them had ever seen him coming or going. Prompto didn’t think it was entirely fair, but then he had deliberately tried to hide his relationship with Ignis specifically to mess with Gladio. This was just Gladio paying him back, but it was also  _ rude  _ and  _ mean  _ and Prompto  _ really  _ wanted to know.

Noct was in the kitchenette already, loading up on pancakes. Prompto poured them each up a cup of coffee, which Noct made a face at. Even with fresh caffeine in his system the prince was liable to fall asleep as soon as their trip was underway. To add insult to injury, as soon as they were seated at the table, Ignis set out glasses of orange juice for them. Prompto preferred the vitamin D over coffee any day, and he thanked his boyfriend sweetly. Noct grimaced again. 

“Suck up,” Noct muttered under his breath.

“That’s why he likes me better,” Prompto shot back, waggling his eyebrows as Noct sputtered, his face going hot. 

They ate quickly after that, mostly at the quiet behest of Ignis who kept pointedly checking his watch and clearing his throat. Prompto grabbed his boyfriend’s watch hand and squeezed it, pulling until Ignis sighed and perched on the chair beside his. There was plenty of time until they had to go, but he understood Ignis’ anxiety. 

Today they’d be leaving Insomnia, and tomorrow they’d return and finally, the event they’d been preparing for all summer would begin. Behind Ignis’ mildly exasperated facade, he had to be a nervous wreck. Prompto could feel it in the way Ignis intermittently gripped his hand a little harder, and see it in the minute tightness at the corners of Ignis’ eyes and mouth. 

Belatedly, he wished he’d stayed the night with his boyfriend, but he had thought he’d be a distraction.  _ Maybe Iggy could have used a distraction.  _

They cleared away their dishes as the clock struck 6:45 and then Ignis was herding them out the door. Prompto stopped him just before they stepped into the hallway, pushing the door halfway shut and giving him a wordless embrace. Ignis had gone completely rigid since their kiss of only a half-an-hour before, but he relaxed somewhat in Prompto’s arms.

“Come now, we mustn’t tarry,” Ignis murmured, even as he tugged Prompto closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. 

Prompto hummed and nuzzled his face into Ignis’ neck before stepping back. “It’s all gonna be fine, Igs,” he said as he met his boyfriend’s gaze. “You’ve been organizing this thing forever, and you don’t do things half-assed.”

Ignis’ expression eased into something less strained, more natural. “Yes, but in my experience, something always goes wrong, and you can’t plan for every disaster.” Prompto opened his mouth to offer more reassurances, but Ignis pressed a gloved finger to his lips. “Thank you, darling. I know I tend to worry overmuch, but I’ll do my best not to.” 

“Good,” Prompto said, and to punctuate his point he kissed Ignis’ silencing finger, which made his boyfriend snort an unrefined laugh. “Now, come on before we’re late.” 

X

Prompto wondered if he would ever be able to walk into the palace throne room without a corresponding flutter of nerves in his stomach. He also couldn’t help but wonder as he stood on the half-circle platform before the dais, how early the king had to get up to be fully dressed in his kingly raiment and sitting on his throne already at seven in the morning. The entire council was present as well, all of them staring down at the four young men. 

Somehow, this was much more intimidating than Prompto’s induction into the Crownsguard had been. The eyes of the councilors were on him, taking in his plaid and black denim, his coerl print, his blond hair and blue eyes and freckles. Maybe they weren’t judging him, though. Maybe they always looked this severe. Their expressions didn’t change when their eyes moved away to inspect the other three boys.

Oddly enough, only Clarus Amicitia looked unconcerned with the proceedings, and the king was as kingly as he’d been the last time Prompto had seen him. 

“Your journey today is but a short one,” said King Regis, his voice easily filling the massive room, empty as it was. “It is, however, of the utmost importance. Escort the Oracle safely to Insomnia, Prince Noctis, and go with my blessing.” 

Noctis gave a bow, probably perfectly executed. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said. Was it weird to have to talk to his dad so formally? Prompto wouldn’t be able to manage it. He couldn’t even call his parents “sir” or “ma’am” with a straight face like some kids did.

It was such a serious goodbye for a short trip. Prompto had seen his dad the day before and hugged him tight before heading back to the Citadel, and he’d talked to his mom on the phone the night before. She’d pretended she wasn’t crying and told him she loved him and to be safe and not to forget his manners in front of the Oracle. Prompto was sure she’d been able to hear him rolling his eyes, but he’d promised to behave. 

Noct turned abruptly and moved past them, heading down the stairs and Prompto started. If His Majesty had had anything else to say, then Prompto had missed it completely. Wincing inwardly, he sketched a quick bow along with Gladio and Ignis, and hurried after Noct. 

“Cor’s waiting for us out on the plaza,” Gladio said as they exited the throne room. An elegant and familiar older man with glasses was standing just beyond the doors, shuffling a stack of papers and murmuring softly to himself. Prompto did a double-take as he walked by, only to realize belatedly that the man was Ignis’ uncle. They were obviously related, but it was Lord Felix Scientia’s noble bearing that Ignis most resembled, making it clear who had raised the young advisor. 

“Ah, Ignis,” the nobleman said as he looked up and spotted his nephew. “Might I have a word?” 

Prompto noted the way Ignis’ lips compressed just the barest fraction, but he gave his uncle a polite nod. “Of course, Uncle.” Then, to his friends, “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.” His eyes met Prompto’s for the briefest second, and Prompto felt some sort of silent communication pass between them. He got the oddest impression that Ignis was worried, and that it had nothing to do with the conference this time. 

Before he could begin to dwell on it, Noct was hooking an arm around his shoulder and guiding him away. “Once we’re on the road you wanna play a few rounds of Kings Knight?” he asked.

Prompto shrugged. “Sure. If you don’t fall asleep first.” 

Noct laughed under his breath, and pushed Prompto ahead of him into an elevator. Gladio was already waiting inside, and the doors closed slowly on the sight of Ignis and his uncle moving down the hall to speak in private. 

X

The three of them exited the palace through the grand foyer, and Prompto saw a line of cars parked at the bottom of the grand palace stairs. There were only three--the king’s personal car, a custom model Regalia that Prompto was almost scared to even look at the wrong way, and two large SUV type cars that Prompto had no doubt were armored vehicles. Anybody who looked at the convoy would know it was escorting somebody important, even though somebody had made a cursory attempt to make the military cars look normal. 

Marshal Leonis was standing down by the cars, arms folded over his chest. Prompto could feel the stern man’s all-seeing gaze sweep across them as they began their descent down the stairs. He didn’t realize he was dragging his feet until Noct paused and looked back up at him with a knowing smirk.

“You can wait for him if you want, y’know,” Noct said. 

Prompto stuck his tongue out at his friend, then realized Cor was still watching them and felt heat creeping up the back of his neck. “We can wait for him at the cars,” he mumbled.

“Kid’s got it bad,” Gladio snickered. He, too, had stopped walking. “Never seen any two people in an actual relationship still pining over each other like you lovebirds.”

“Gladio,” Prompto hissed, shooting him a look. The big guy wasn’t exactly a soft-talker, and voices had a tendency to carry in the large plaza outside the Citadel, especially when it was empty. There were no protesters that morning, and Prompto wondered if it was just too early for them or if they’d been told to clear out for a few hours. 

Cor was still watching them, impatience fairly radiating off of him now. Prompto could just make out the silhouettes of other people in the two SUVs, too. With another warning look, Prompto started past his friends, but he didn’t make it far.

“Look, there he is now,” Noct said. Prompto grimaced as his heart leapt--damn it, Gladio was right--but he tried to put on a neutral expression as he glanced over his shoulder. Then he froze.

“You all right there, Iggy?” Gladio called out as Prompto whirled around. Ignis was walking stiffly down the stairs, wide eyed and slightly pale. 

“Iggy?” Prompto said, and he moved back up the stone steps. Then, in a lower voice, “Babe? What’s wrong?”

Ignis blinked down at him as they came level, as if he hadn’t noticed the others were there. Some of the color returned to his face as he shook his head. He reached up and settled a steadying hand on Prompto’s shoulder, and Prompto felt a tremor run up his boyfriend’s arm.

“I need to sit. Just for a moment,” Ignis said, and his voice sounded weird. Unfocused. Then he sat, right there on the steps, and Prompto had no choice but to kneel beside him as Ignis’ grip on him tightened.

“Iggy, you’re freaking me out,” Prompto said with a nervous little laugh. What the hell had his uncle said to him? He heard footsteps behind him, scraping on the stone stairs. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

Eyelids fluttering again, Ignis looked at Prompto, expression softening from what looked like  _ shock  _ to something warmer, though his eyes still looked too big behind his glasses. “I...spoke with my uncle. He wanted to tell me that he thought I’d done well preparing for my first major political event, and then he began asking how my friends were doing...He asked about you.”

Prompto’s heart began to pound. “He-he did?”

Ignis continued as if Prompto hadn’t spoken. “I don’t know what possessed me, but...but I  _ told  _ him.” He paused, reached up to pull his glasses off with the hand that wasn’t clutching Prompto like a lifeline, squeezed his eyes shut. His voice was almost a whisper when he spoke again. “I told him that I’m...I’m gay. I remember thinking I should say something, and then it just... _ fell _ out of my mouth. Then I believe I had some sort of out of body experience. I truly felt like I might float away.”

“And--,” Prompto paused to swallow hard, “And wh-what’d he say?” He was almost scared to know the answer, but then Ignis opened his eyes--which looked suspiciously wet--and smiled. 

“He said...he said he  _ knew,” _ he said with something like disbelief and just a touch of awe. “He said he’d known for ages and was just waiting for me to tell him. That that was why he never tried to arrange anything for me with one of the ladies of court. I was reeling and I barely understood him, but... _ Gods, _ Prompto, he wants to meet you now.”

Prompto opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, “Gods, Iggy, you scared the shit out of me, I thought he--!” Ignis started laughing and Prompto clamped his mouth shut again, soothed by his boyfriend’s obvious--near hysterical--relief.  _ He shook himself,  _ Prompto thought, feeling his own lips twitching as Ignis replaced his glasses. 

“You realize what this means, don’t you?” Ignis asked, face flushed a warm pink, a twinkle in his green eyes. There was something mischievous in his smile as Prompto began to shake his head. The hand on his shoulder shifted then, faster than he could realize what was happening while his brain was still trying to catch up, cupping the back of his neck as Ignis pulled him in close. 

The kiss took Prompto by surprise, but he was so frazzled he could do nothing but melt into it, exhilarating in the heat and comfort of his boyfriend’s lips. Everything else fell away as he curled his fist into Ignis’ neatly pressed shirt collar--he forgot where they were, what they were doing, riding too high on emotion to care. 

Until someone pointedly cleared their throat just below them on the stairs. Prompto realized with a jolt that he was kneeling on hard stone, half-straddling his boyfriend and kissing him in broad daylight. In  _ public.  _

With a very undignified squeak he pulled back, but Ignis held onto him even as Prompto craned his neck and felt all the color drain from his face. Apparently the Immortal had gotten tired of waiting, because he’d climbed up the stairs and was now standing only five steps below them, arms folded impatiently over his chest. His expression was flat, but not quite as severe as it could have been. Noct and Gladio were standing idly a few steps below Cor, doing a very bad job of pretending like they hadn’t been watching the whole thing. 

“Marshal Leonis,” Ignis said, and the stunned, distant quality had left his voice, leaving him sounding as smooth and put-together as always. His reddened lips and face sort of ruined the effect, but his expression was serene. 

“Crownsguard Scientia,” Cor said, “Argentum--” Prompto winced, “--This gonna be a problem?” He looked between the two of them with significance, and Prompto stiffened. Cor was asking if they were going to let their relationship get in the way of their duties, or that was what Prompto  _ thought _ he was asking. 

“Not at all,” Ignis replied, slick and businesslike. 

Cor met Ignis’ steady gaze, and for a moment it felt like they were having a stand-off, with Prompto helpless between them. 

Finally the marshal sighed and shook his head. If he’d been anyone else, Prompto thought he might have also rolled his eyes. “Good. Now, get the lead out. We needed to be gone ten minutes ago.” 

“Yes, sir!” Prompto peeped, and felt a surge of indignance when he saw Ignis’ lips twitch. 

Cor nodded, then turned and made his way down the steps. Gladio waggled his eyebrows before following, and Noct gave them both a strangely pleased smile and also trailed after the Immortal. 

That left Prompto and Ignis to pick themselves up and sort themselves out. Prompto straightened the collar he’d smooshed in his grip, then dusted off his knees. When Ignis grasped his hand he nearly jumped--but it didn’t matter anymore. They didn’t have to  _ hide  _ anymore. 

As if he’d been reading Prompto’s mind, Ignis said, “I’m sure somebody in the palace was watching us. Everyone in the Citadel will know within the hour.” Grinning, he added. “The Crownsguard are terrible gossips.” 

“And that’s...you’re good with that?” Prompto asked with a touch of anxiety as Ignis started down the stairs. He had no choice but to follow, thinking that this couldn’t have been how Ignis wanted all of this to happen.

“Yes,” Ignis replied. He looked...relaxed. All of the tension he’d been holding all morning had evaporated now that he’d recovered from his daze. “Truthfully, it was my uncle I was most worried about telling. I think...I built it in my mind into something frightful. I’m the last Scientia, after my uncle. I thought he’d...Well, it doesn’t matter, now.” He gave Prompto a wry smile, “All that fuss I made and I wound up blurting the truth out like...well like  _ you.” _

“Hey!”

“I mean no offense, darling. I might not have ever been brave enough to tell him if it weren’t for you,” Ignis said in a murmur, gazing down the stairs at where their companions were waiting.

“Oh,” Prompto said, and he squeezed Ignis’ hand more tightly within his own. “Well...I’m proud of you, Iggy. It really  _ was  _ brave of you.” And he  _ was  _ proud, he realized. Fiercely so. It burned in his chest, adding to the love that smoldered there. 

Ignis gave Prompto a surprised look that quickly morphed back into a smile. “Thank you. That...that means a lot to me.” 

They reached the bottom of the stairs together. Noct and Gladio were already in the back seat of the Regalia--Gladio was reading a book that he’d pulled out of somewhere, and Noct looked like he was already asleep, slumped down in his seat.  _ So much for King’s Knight,  _ Prompto thought with a smirk.

“I suppose that means I’ll be driving,” Ignis sighed.

“But we’ll get to sit next to each other,” Prompto said. Then, boldly, he leaned up and kissed Ignis’ jaw. “We can hold hands.”

Ignis chuckled, and stepped forward to open the passenger side door for Prompto, like the gentleman he was. “Well then. Shall we?”

Prompto snorted at the gesture, but secretly his heart warmed as he stepped forward and climbed into his seat. This felt right, he thought as Ignis took his place behind the wheel. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the headrest and looked up at a perfectly blue, clear sky. Everything was just as it should be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is such a good boy.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Prompto thinks everyone is hot, but Ignis is the most hot. 
> 
> This chapter kinda got away from me, as usual. I added a bunch of stuff I hadn’t planned on so I gotta split it in two because I realized that if I kept adding everything that needs to happen I would be writing this chapter for another month Dx Of course, since xmas I’ve been sick (for like the tenth time while writing this fic) and I have an ongoing tooth issue, so that contributed to my slowness in updating. But I promise, next chapter we’ll meet the Oracle and there will be some emotional stuff going on that should be pretty good.

“Hey, Iggy?” Prompto twisted in his seat to look over at his boyfriend. Ignis was focused on the road before them, a wide avenue lined with high-rises. They were making good time through the city, their motorcade easily bypassing early morning traffic. At their current rate, they were going to make it to the Leide Gate within half-an-hour. 

Ignis hummed in response, and Prompto readjusted his grip on Ignis’ hand to lace their fingers together. They were both wearing gloves--Prompto’s fingerless, Ignis’ driving gloves leaving only his thumb bare, so they had that one point of skin-to-skin contact at least. Prompto grinned at Ignis smoothed his thumb over the back of Prompto’s fingers. He felt light and peaceful--but also giddy and nervous--after the little show they had put on at the palace.

“Can I drive?” Prompto asked. He had been planning on taking pictures once they made it past the wall, but he was also feeling bold and eager and he needed to do something with the energy brimming underneath his skin. Since they were going to be stuck in a car all day, he thought that being allowed to drive the Regalia might help him focus and make him less prone to fidgeting. 

In the driver’s seat beside him, he saw Ignis’ purse his lips in thought, his attractive brow furrowing. “Perhaps once we’re out of the city and there are fewer obstructions,” he finally answered.

Pressing his hand to his chest, Prompto gasped in mock offense. “What are you trying to say?” he asked. “Are you calling me a bad driver?” 

There was the slightest tremble at the corners of Ignis’ mouth, something Prompto had to look for to notice. “Not at all, my dear,” Ignis said airily, an obvious lie. Prompto wasn’t a  _ terrible  _ driver, per se, but he hadn’t had much practice in the three years since earning his license. Even then, he’d just barely passed his driving test; he’d been so nervous the instructor had taken pity on him and let him skip the parallel parking demonstration. Somehow, he suspected Ignis knew about that even though Noct was the only person Prompto had ever told. 

That being said, Prompto wasn’t a madman on the road or anything like that, he just got...distracted. There were a lot of things he had to pay attention to, and he hardly thought he should be faulted for having difficulty keeping track of  _ every  _ little thing. He did envy Ignis’ focus, though. Even with only one hand on the wheel and with Prompto in the passenger seat, Ignis was able to keep both eyes on the road.

Maybe it went without saying, but he also looked gorgeous sitting behind the wheel. Like, ridiculously hot. Prompto remembered riding with Ignis to pick up dinner for their friends that one night that felt like forever ago. He remembered wishing he’d had his camera so he could capture the other man’s beautiful profile in the sunset, and he’d probably also been longing to kiss Ignis as he sat there pining like a hopeless idiot. 

Well, now nothing was stopping him on either front. He wriggled his hand free, and saw Ignis dart a look his way before placing both hands on the wheel. Prompto dove into his camera bag, stored between his feet, and retrieved his Lokton. He screwed on the fifty-five millimeter lens and twisted himself in his seat so his leg was tucked underneath his body and he had a better angle on Ignis.

“That didn’t take long,” he heard Gladio mutter from the backseat. On impulse, Prompto twisted further, and snapped a quick photo of Gladio. His posture was loose, one elbow leaning on the window frame, propping up his head, a book with a red leather cover held in his other hand. In the picture his eyes were downcast, focused on reading, but he looked up with a frown at Prompto’s smirking expression. 

“For posterity,” Prompto sing-songed, waving his camera slightly. “Don’t you wanna remember this day forever?” 

Gladio’s eyes rolled skyward, but he let his mouth curve into a grin. “Just make sure you get my good side.” 

In the spirit of fairness, Prompto also took a few shots of Noct’s lolled back head and slumping posture. Prompto didn’t understand how he could manage to sleep today, of all days, when he was finally going to see Luna again. 

When he decided he had enough blackmail material, Prompto settled himself again and turned the camera on Ignis. His boyfriend was wearing an openly amused expression now, an understated smile turning his lips up, his green eyes glittering in the golden early-morning light. Again, Prompto couldn’t help but be amazed at how handsome Ignis looked, how effortlessly beautiful he was. Even without all the primping he did in the morning, Ignis still looked like a rockstar.  _ Especially in that coeurl-print shirt.  _

Prompto pressed the viewfinder to his face and began lining up shots. He could fill an entire SD card with just pictures of Ignis driving--or doing anything, really--but he managed to restrain himself to just a dozen or so. Later, before he let anybody else look at his camera, he’d pick the best ones to save so nobody could accuse him of playing favorites. There would still probably be more pictures of Ignis than anyone else, regardless of his efforts, though. 

He wound up getting so preoccupied with his camera that he didn’t realize they were at the gate until the car came to a full stop. When he looked up, he was expecting to see that they were at a traffic light, but instead the road ended ahead in what looked like a toll station. There were about a dozen booths set up between the traffic lanes where people would have to stop and pay a fee or show their transit card in order to get out of--or enter--Insomnia. 

Nobody else was trying to leave the city at the moment. A few cars were being inspected at the booths on the opposite side of a concrete barrier--people who were trying to enter the city, Prompto thought. City guards manned the gates, but it was a transit officer with an orange reflective vest who was speaking to Cor through the window of the lead SUV. A few words were exchanged, then the officer stood back and began waving them forward.

Prompto’s stomach was twirling as they passed through the gate--going underneath the wall, a mountain of a structure pressing down above them--and were surrounded by dim underground lights for about thirty seconds. A literal light at the end of the tunnel beckoned them forward and then slowly engulfed them as their convoy drove back out into open air. At the same moment, Prompto felt the tingle of magic wash over his skin as they drew closer to the Crystal’s magical barrier. 

As he blinked away the strange sensation, he realized they were picking up speed again, their vehicles rolling onto the longest bridge Prompto had ever seen in his life. He felt his mouth drop open as he looked out over the world, over the vast canal that separated Insomnia from the mainland. There were lakes inside Insomnia’s walls, but they were like duck ponds compared to  _ this.  _ Even Insomnia’s seaport couldn’t compare.

“Darling,” Ignis’ voice reached his ears, and he managed to tear his gaze away from all that water to focus on Ignis’ minute smile.

“Yeah?” he asked, feeling a little breathless.

“I thought you meant to make record of this trip. For posterity,” Ignis said, and Prompto squeaked as he realized he’d dropped his camera into his lap. He scooped it up, nearly fumbled it--thank the Six he was wearing a camera strap--and held it up to his eye. 

The first few shots were messy, his finger too eager on the capture button, but then he fell back into focus. Once more, he lost himself, at least until they reached the opposite end of the bridge and the world dropped back out of sight. The small convoy rolled through a corridor of high walls constructed of solid concrete that ended at yet another checkpoint. This one was more obviously guarded, watched over by two Glaives as well as city guards, all of them armed. Now, they were officially beyond the Crystal’s protection. 

As they rolled to a stop once more, Prompto sighed and leaned back in his seat to snap a few photos of the empty sky. The weather had been cooling over the past week, and he felt a bit chilled as a breeze rolled in from the canal, where it was naturally colder anyway. 

“Iggy, remind me to ask for an extra uniform shirt with sleeves when we get back,” Prompto said.

Smirking, Ignis told him, “Already taken care of.”

“Really? You’re the best, babe,” Prompto said, a swell of affection warming him from the inside. Of course Ignis would have had the foresight to order a long-sleeved uniform for Prompto. Left to his own devices, Prompto wouldn’t have remembered to do the same until he was scheduled to work in the middle of a blizzard. 

“Are we there already?” Noct grumbled from the back. Prompto looked over his shoulder to see that Noct was squinting irritably up at the now brightly lit sky, as though the sun had personally offended him. His sleepy-eyed look became a scowl when Gladio reached over and gave him a light pat on the cheek.

“Not yet, prince charmless,” Gladio said, “Hasn’t even been an hour since we left. We won’t get to Galdin until after noon.” 

“Cool,” Noct said with a yawn. “Wake me up when we get there.” With that he dropped his head back again, but his eyes were squeezed shut too tightly against the sun. Prompto doubted he’d fall asleep again. Not easily, anyway. 

Once more, they were waved through the checkpoint after Cor spoke with an on-duty Glaive, and Prompto gripped his camera in anticipation as they passed beyond the dull concrete. The walls fell back, receding toward higher constructs further back from the blacktop road. Massive, abandoned structures stood sentinel in an otherwise empty landscape. Well, empty of human construction, anyway. Aside from the old fortresses, the land was a swathe of desert, dotted with scrubby plant life and the occasional darting shadow of an animal. In the distance, redstone cliffs rose out of the dust, and Prompto could make out the shapes of birds wheeling in their heights. 

He switched out his lense for the three-hundred millimeter, and began taking shots of the world, seeing it all through the viewfinder. Dry air filled his lungs and tugged at his hair, warming now as the sun rose, and it tasted strange without the tinge of exhaust and other pollutants. And the further they got from the city, the more the world opened up around them. Sometimes the fields of red dust and dense desert plant-life stretched so far away that they dissolved into a shimmering haze. Failing that, the land would end at the horizon, meeting in a fine edge with the clear blue sky. Prompto had never seen so much... _ space. _

“It’s  _ endless  _ out here,” he said, and he could hear the awe in his own voice. Frankly, he felt a little exposed. In Insomnia proper you were always surrounded by buildings, and when you got further out into the suburbs, into open farmland, you could always see the wall no matter where you were. Prompto had never realized how much he had subconsciously relied on that safety net. 

“It’s a bit overwhelming,” he heard Ignis agree beside him. Ignis’ tone was level, observational even, but Prompto was still glad to hear that his boyfriend felt the same. 

Eventually, even the occasional cliffs tapered off and they were left with only that unobstructed view of a vast desert land. Prompto wasn’t afraid, exactly, but the strange bundled mix of anxiety and excitement that had sat heavy in his stomach all morning remained. 

At least until he started to get bored. And for Prompto Argentum, boredom was only a matter of time.

x

With a huff, Prompto set his camera down and folded his arms over the top of the car door. Everything in the empty desert landscape started to look sort of the same after a while, and he could only take so many pictures of the dirt. It was still nice to look at, but he’d been hoping there would be more  _ stuff  _ to see besides cactuses--cacti?--and tumbleweeds. Something like a behemoth would be nice, or some other cool animal that would actually get him followers on his photography blog. 

It’d be nice if they could stop and get to walk around, too. His legs were getting stiff and his butt hurt from sitting still for so long. Well, sitting still for him involved a lot of squirming, and he was feeling more restless now than anxious. 

Something touched his leg, and he started, turning away from the scrolling landscape to see Ignis’ hand resting on his thigh. “We’ll be stopping soon,” Ignis said, giving Prompto’s leg a reassuring squeeze. How Ignis could be so observant even while preoccupied was still a mystery to Prompto, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Prompto had been biting his tongue to keep from asking the most prevalent road-trip question of “are we there yet,” but he felt somewhat mollified now.

There was a snort from the back seat, and Prompto looked back to see Noct stretching and blinking sleepily. Two hours he’d been asleep, and he had that muzzy look of post-sleep disorientation of somebody who’d forgotten what they were doing.

“Where are we?” Noct asked in a raspy voice, rubbing at his eyes.

“Leide,” Ignis stated, speaking loudly to be heard over the wind and the roar of the engine. “Approaching the Hammerhead rest area.” 

Noct blew out a soft raspberry that made his bangs flutter, then he pulled out his phone. After a moment of tapping, Prompto felt his own phone vibrate. When he retrieved it from his pocket he saw he had a quest invite in King’s Knight. Eagerly, he accepted it, glad for the distraction. Thusly, the two young men were kept sufficiently occupied for the next forty-five minutes while Ignis drove and Gladio continued to read. 

Prompto didn’t look up from his phone again until he felt the Regalia slow and begin to turn. The scent of hot metal and exhaust filled his nose as he looked up and saw with a start that Hammerhead was more than just a rest area. A gleaming garage stood with an open door in the mid-morning heat, the sound of drilling pouring out into the lot where Ignis parked the Regalia. 

Scrambling, Prompto got the passenger door open and swung his legs out onto the pavement, stretching as he stood. His back gave a satisfying pop, and he immediately lifted his camera as he turned to take a picture of his friends all grimacing as they stretched their own stiffened limbs. 

From the direction of the SUVs Prompto heard Cor call out, “Ten minutes!”

“That’s not enough time!” Prompto whined, though he kept his voice soft so Cor wouldn’t hear him. There was no way he’d be able to inspect the entire rest area and take a bathroom break in just ten minutes. 

Ignis smirked as he circled around the Regalia. “Better be quick. The marshal may well leave us behind if we take too long,” he said, nodding toward a sign that read “Restrooms,” a helpful hand on Prompto’s back giving him a little push forward.

While Prompto waited in a short line for his turn in the bathroom, he edged away from the group to get a better look at their surroundings. There were about a half-dozen other cars parked around Hammerhead, and there were plenty of other people milling about. The cars, he noted, were all kind of old fashioned, which made the convoy stick out like a sore thumb even more than they had in the city. People were already watching the oddly dressed group with curiosity. 

“What’s with that,” he murmured under his breath as he saw a man selling weapons out of the back of a large truck. The sight made his skin prickle, but nobody seemed to be paying the guy much attention. Was this some kind of country thing, having weapon dealers just out in the open like that?

“Lot’s of nasty beasts out here,” a voice said behind him, making him jump as he looked around. A man dressed in the black uniform of a Glaive had sidled up beside him without Prompto noticing. He felt somewhat put out by that, having thought himself more observant now with some Crownsguard training under his belt. _ But Glaives are super elite. I bet I’m just a scrub compared to this guy _ . “Hunters and travelers need to stay armed to protect themselves,” the Glaive explained.

“Oh?” Prompto said. He’d heard about that, heard about the hunters outside of the city, but he’d never really given them much thought. He certainly hadn’t considered that there would be enough of a problem with the wildlife that people would be selling an entire armory at a public rest stop. 

“That’s not to mention the daemons,” the Glaive added, his expression remaining calm as he scanned the area. 

Prompto felt his heart thump a little more quickly at that. “I thought the daemons weren’t that big a problem anymore,” he said, hating that his voice had gone up an octave.

The Glaive looked sideways at him, and smiled slowly. “Not as bad as they used to be, no. But they’re still out there. Nyx Ulric, by the way.” 

He held out his hand and Prompto stared at it stupidly for a second before remembering what he was supposed to do with it. Nyx’s grip was firm, he found as he took the proffered hand, and Prompto tried to match it as they shook. Nyx Ulric was older than Prompto, maybe in his early thirties, and handsome, too.  _ What? Shut up. He’s got nothing on Iggy. _

“I’m Prompto,” he said, voice cracking slightly as he fought down a blush, “Argentum.”

“The prince’s friend, right?” Nyx asked, taking his hand back. Prompto steeled himself internally for the condescension, but it didn’t come. “His Highness must really trust you if he brought you into the Crownsguard the way he did.” 

The compliment made Prompto blush in a way that must have been entirely noticeable. Before he could recover from his surprise, he heard Gladio calling out for him to get moving. He gave Nyx an awkward smile and rushed toward the bathroom, berating himself for getting distracted and for acting like a dunce. 

When he emerged from the bathroom he looked for his friends, hoping to get a quick group shot of them together at the very least. Maybe one day he’d get to come back here, if he could ever save up enough for his own car. Then he’d take a million photos and eat at the diner, and--

“Y’all look mighty conspicuous driving around with those unmarked SUVs. The Regalia, though, she’s somethin’ else. I’d love to take a look under the hood of a car like her,” a bright, female voice drawled from somewhere close by. Following the sound, Prompto turned a corner around the garage and nearly ran right into Ignis.

“We aren’t expecting any trouble,” Ignis said as he glanced over and raised his eyebrows at Prompto, “The Crownsguard  _ did  _ perform reconnaissance before we left on this trip.” 

The young woman who he was speaking to cocked her hips and turned to face him, apparently having to tear her gaze away from the Regalia to do so. “Well, I sure hope so, if you’re gonna have the prince and the Oracle traveling together. Paw-paw says lots of folk ain’t too happy about having the Nifs at this big conference.”

Ignis was wearing his most politely neutral expression which Prompto took to mean he wasn’t fully engaged in the conversation but didn’t want to be rude. The girl he was speaking to was beautiful, though, sporting bouncy curls tucked into a trucker’s cap, and wearing a yellow coat and short shorts over what looked like a two piece bathing suit and thigh-high boots. As she turned her gaze on Prompto, he immediately felt a surge of adolescent shyness. 

There was no real reason for it, other than the fact that a pretty girl was looking at him--the sort of girl he might have developed a crush on if he wasn’t already in a relationship. But Ignis was also watching, so Prompto pushed aside his awkwardness and offered her a friendly smile. 

“Hey, Igs. Who’s your friend?” 

“Cindy,” the woman offered before Ignis could speak, holding her hand out for him. Her handshake was as sure and firm as Nyx’s had been, and Prompto cursed his traitorous brain for finding that attractive. _ Iggy’s standing right there, you idiot. Knock if off. _ “My Paw-paw’s an old family friend of the Crown.” 

“Is that so?” Prompto said, tone a touch strained. He looked to Ignis, who was watching him carefully, and let go of Cindy’s hand. She gestured to something behind them, and he looked around to see Cor talking to a diminutive old man in a red coat. 

“There’s Paw-paw now,” she said. “Givin’  your marshal an earful, I suspect.” From the grim look on Cor’s face, that much was probably true. Was the old man berating him as well for being too conspicuous?

“We ought to get back to the car,” Ignis interjected, pulling Prompto’s attention back to him. “Cor will want us underway as soon as he’s finished speaking with Master Cid.”

“Oh? Well, it was sure nice meeting you boys,” Cindy said, not at all put out by Ignis’ brusque tone. “Come back and visit sometime.”

As if realizing he’d been a bit short with her, Ignis gave a nod, expression softening into something more diplomatic. “Perhaps someday. Prompto?” He turned to leave, and Prompto made a point of reaching out and clasping their hands together, suddenly craving the simple contact. Then he gave Cindy a wave before letting Ignis pull him away. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there,” Ignis said once they were out of earshot. Prompto looked up, and was relieved to see Ignis was smiling at him.

“What’d I do?” he asked. Aside from making a goober out of himself in front of two different attractive strangers in the space of a few minutes, Prompto was clueless.

“I thought your eyes might pop out of your skull when you saw Cindy,” Ignis said, and he raised Prompto’s hand to his lips, kissing the backs of his bare fingers. “Latching onto me like this was a nice cover.”

“What?” Prompto nearly yelped. “No, babe, I wasn’t--,” he paused and looked at their still-joined hands, “You know I’m not that smooth, even if I  _ was  _ checking her out. Which I wasn’t!” 

“No?” Ignis said, his lips curving up. 

“No! I felt awkward and I wanted my boyfriend to hold my hand, that’s all,” Prompto said with a pitiful whine. “I didn’t think you were gonna be so  _ mean  _ about it.” 

Ignis actually burst out laughing, though he recovered quickly. “Come now, I’m only teasing you,” he said when Prompto tried to pry his hand free. 

“I know, because you’re a jerk,” Prompto said, but he let Ignis pull him in closer as they reached the Regalia. “I thought you’d be jealous, y’know? Like you were--” he darted his gaze over to where the marshal was stalking towards the SUVs, “--before.” The memory of  _ that  _ little confrontation still made him feel a twinge of embarrassment. 

Ignis shrugged, but Prompto caught the way his cheeks went pink in the bright morning sunlight. “I suppose I’ve no reason to be jealous any longer,” he said, and his gaze slid sideways, toward the SUVs. Towards the marshal.

All at once, Prompto knew  _ exactly  _ why his boyfriend wasn’t jealous. “Wow,” he said, and Ignis’ eyes snapped back to his. 

“‘Wow,’ what?” Ignis asked.

Prompto let himself smile, and reached up to smooth his hand over a nonexistent wrinkle in Ignis’ shirt. “Just how long were you  _ dying  _ to be able to kiss me in front of--,” he cut off when Ignis’ eyebrows climbed almost up to his hairline.  _ You smug nerd, _ he thought, grinning even more widely. “In front of everyone?”  _ Everyone including Cor.  _

Ignis brought up a hand to cough into, blushing more obviously now. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he said, but he couldn’t seem to look Prompto in the eye. 

With a snort, Prompto stepped in close so they were chest to chest, “You’re kinda ridiculous,” he said, and Ignis frowned. Lowering his voice, Prompto added, “I told you; you’re the only one I want.”

“I know,” Ignis sighed, his expression softening. “That kiss on the stairs was on impulse, just so you’re aware. I wasn’t…‘marking my territory,’ or anything so base,” he said with a grimace, “But I’m not sorry for it.” 

“Me neither,” Prompto said, shimmying even closer as he slid his arms around Ignis’ waist, “I kinda like the idea of everyone knowing we’re together. _Seeing_ us together, y’know?”

Something sparked in Ignis’ gaze at that statement, but Cor’s voice calling out broke through the little bubble of intimacy around them. “All right, we’re running behind! Let’s get moving!” the Immortal cried.

Reluctantly, Prompto let Ignis pull back, and he shivered despite the warmth of the day. Ignis gave him an understanding look, and placed a hand in the small of Prompto’s back. “Better not keep the marshal waiting,” he said with a very put-upon sigh.

Gladio and Noct chose that moment to come striding out of the convenience mart, Gladio hefting a plastic bag full of road snacks and Noct with his face buried in a fishing magazine. They had definitely gone over the ten minute time limit, but Cor didn’t look any more displeased by the delay than he normally did.

“That day when you first tried on your uniform,” Ignis said as the Crownsguard and Glaives began piling back into their vehicles.

“What?” Prompto said, reaching for the passenger side door handle.

“The answer to your question,” Ignis replied, his complexion still shaded a soft pink. “How long I had been wanting to…” He shifted uncomfortably, but disguised it by folding his arms over his chest. “The day in Dustin’s office when you first met the marshal.” 

“Iggy! We weren’t even dating then!” Prompto laughed. 

“Weren’t even dating when?” Noct said from where he’d clambered into the the back seat. His tone was a little too interested, belying his apparent absorption in his magazine. 

“Back when I--,” Prompto began. 

“Darling,” Ignis said without inflection, one of his gloved hands suddenly curling gently around Prompto’s wrist, “Didn’t you say you’d like to drive?” 

The interruption had the desired effect. Prompto forgot his teasing and quickly scrambled over the center console into the driver’s seat that Ignis vacated after parking the car again. One of the SUVs honked from where they were waiting to turn back out onto the road, and Ignis hurried around the car to climb into the passenger seat. Then they were moving, and Prompto guided the Regalia out onto the road as smoothly as he could, daunted now by the powerful vehicle. It certainly had more get-up-and-go than either of his parents’ cars, but he was determined not to accidentally accelerate into a guardrail or something. 

It was only when they were turning down yet another long, empty road toward Galdin Quay that Prompto realized he’d been outmaneuvered. Not that he was upset about it--Ignis was a wily one, but he looked calm now in the passenger seat, and he was resting a hand on Prompto’s thigh. The weight of his hand was warm and kind of distracting, but Prompto was glad for it, glad that there was no longer a need for secrecy or discretion. The whole “secret relationship” thing was probably even the real reason--or most of the reason, he thought--for Ignis’ jealousy towards Cor. 

Had Ignis worried that Prompto would get tired of hiding? It all seemed so backwards. Of the two of them, Ignis was the obvious catch. Prompto was the one who should be feeling insecure, and if they hadn’t been so busy over the past few weeks he probably would have had more time to worry. But Ignis was better at multitasking, apparently. 

_ It’s fine now, though. Right?  _ He risked a glance over at Ignis, who saw him looking and offered him a smile that made Prompto’s heart flutter. Gods, his boyfriend was pretty.  _ Why exactly did I wanna drive again?  _ Now he was stuck behind the wheel, and though he appreciated all the horsepower that rumbled at his fingertips, Prompto really,  _ really _ wanted to crawl into Ignis’ lap and show him that he never had any reason to be insecure again. 

_ Well, only four more hours until we reach Galdin Quay,  _ Prompto thought. His attempt at injecting cheer into the thought was a miserable failure.

x  


As it so happened, they wound up nearly an hour behind schedule due to a “creature crossing” as Ignis had dubbed a sudden stampede of anak that blocked their convoy. Prompto stood up in his seat--despite Noct hissing about footprints on the leather--and he’d gotten some great shots of the towering animals looming over the glittering black vehicles. And there was even a spare can of leather polish in the glove box that would take care of the scuff marks his boots had left on the driver’s seat. So no harm done (though Noct still smacked Prompto lightly upside the head when he sat back down).

By the time they arrived in Galdin Quay, the novelty of being outside of Insomnia had given way to fatigue and antsiness. Prompto and Ignis had switched seats again after the anak incident, and although Prompto’s camera was loaded with more new pictures than he’d taken all summer, he was now officially sick of road trips. 

Then he saw the ocean again, this time a glittering blue expanse so different from the choppy grey waters that surrounded Insomnia. Again, he was standing, balancing elbows on the top of the windshield as he snapped pictures. Ignis made a terse noise of disapproval and slowed the Regalia as they turned a corner and began descending a winding hill toward the quay. 

Prompto squeaked when he felt a hand fisting the back of his vest, tugging him back down into his seat. He gave an unrepentant Gladio one of his best pouts, but they were passing beneath a large stone overpass now, the view effectively blocked from Prompto’s camera. 

“That was the first interesting thing we’ve seen in hours,” Prompto mumbled under his breath, regardless. 

“Just imagine if we’d had to travel all the way to Cape Caem,” Ignis said teasingly as they reemerged into the fading daylight. “You’d have been stuck in the car for days.”

Prompto made a face. He’d been excited to see the ocean as they’d crested the hill overlooking Galdin, but he was even more excited to stretch his legs again. 

“Wouldn’t be so bad,” Gladio groaned, stretching his arms above his head, “if we weren’t on such a tight schedule.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind it if we could do a little more sightseeing,” Prompto agreed. They had driven past quite a few spots he would have liked to explore further, but the inexorable march forward had taken precedence. And now, finally, they were there, pulling the train of cars into a mostly empty parking lot.

All of them were wincing this time as they piled out of the vehicles. Something struck Prompto as odd as he looked around, and it took him until they’d walked over to where the marshal was speaking with a few uniformed Crownsguard for him to realize what it was. 

“There’s nobody else here,” he said. 

“Some of the staff at the hotel are present,” Ignis said behind him, “But the area has been closed to civilians until the Oracle arrives in the morning.” 

“Ooh,” Prompto said, and then with a start he realized that one of the people Cor was speaking to was Dustin. He and his assistants must have arrived before the rest of the convoy to secure the area, which made sense. When Prompto had been briefed on protocol for the trip, all he’d been told was the route they’d be taking, as well as to be on guard and obey orders.  _ Nobody tells me anything important. It’s not like I have any friends outside the Crownsguard to blab state secrets to. _

A familiar gloved hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Ignis watching him, standing close. “What’s that pout for?” Ignis asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking about what a low-level grunt I am. If this was a video game, I’d be the first guy to die,” Prompto said. 

“Nonsense,” Ignis argued, pulling Prompto in closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You’d last at least until the second level.” 

“ _ Mean. _ ”

“Let’s get everything unpacked and begin patrols,” Cor called out, putting the brakes on further conversation, “We need to keep this area secure.” 

Prompto let his shoulders slump and made to step away from Ignis, but a strong arm kept him in place. When he tilted his head back to look at Ignis, a warm mouth pressed against his own in a lingering, if chaste, kiss. He felt his eyelashes flutter in surprise as Ignis pulled back, warmth rising in his cheeks as his boyfriend gave him a slow smile that made his green eyes glitter.  _ Fuck. He’s too handsome, how is he even real? _

“I believe you’re assigned to watch over Noctis,” Ignis murmured as he stepped back with some obvious reluctance. “He may have already spotted the fishing pier, and knowing our dear prince, he’s attempting to sneak off as we speak.”

Prompto met Ignis’ smile with a grin of his own, even as his heart continued to stutter in his chest. “Sure you don’t need me to help unload the cars?” 

“I believe we have that well in hand, between Gladiolus and your Glaive friend,” Ignis said, nodding his chin up towards something over Prompto’s shoulder. When he glanced that way, he saw Nyx Ulric hauling a heavy looking bag up over his shoulder.

Ignis was smirking down at him when he looked back at his boyfriend. “Are you gonna tease me every time I talk to somebody even remotely as attractive as you?” Prompto whined.

“Possibly. I haven’t decided yet,” Ignis said. “Go on, now. Mustn’t keep Noctis waiting.” 

_ Mean, _ Prompto thought for what felt like the tenth time that day, though he made sure to give Ignis a goodbye peck on the cheek before rushing off after Noctis. Despite all of his pouting, he was relieved that Ignis wasn’t really jealous. Today was too important a day for them to have it be spoiled by something like envy. 

_ He really kissed me, in front of everybody. Twice _ . Prompto still felt a part of himself reeling at the thought, at the memory of Ignis kissing him on the stairs in front of the Citadel. And then again, just a few minutes ago, Ignis had kissed him and it had felt so...He didn’t really know how to describe it, but there was a weight gone from his shoulders. One he hadn’t even realized was there.

Prompto caught up to Noct just as the prince was steadily creeping toward the edge of the parking lot, looking entirely too conspicuous in his black fatigues. “Y’know, if you think nobody is gonna notice you, the prince, sneaking off, when it’s like, everybody’s job to watch over you, you’ve got another thing coming,” Prompto informed his friend.

“Yeah, right. Ignis sent you after me and we both know it,” Noct said, though he abandoned all pretense of creeping along as he turned and headed down the stairs to the beach. 

“Well, yeah, but even I’m not so dumb that I wouldn’t have realized that ocean equals fish, equals Noct fucking off to go fishing,” Prompto said. “But good news--I’m your babysitter for the rest of the afternoon, so at least you’ll have some cool company while you do your boring hobby.”

Unfazed by the insult, Noct only shrugged. “That’s fine. At least one of us’ll be having a good time.”

“You’re the worst, y’know that?”

“That sounds like a treasonous statement to me, Crownsguard,” Noct said, only to fumble in the sand as Prompto put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a shove.

x  


Noct was an hour in on his impromptu fishing trip when he snuck his first glance over at Prompto. It wasn’t a very subtle glance for a prince with a lifetime of courtly training under his belt considering that Prompto saw it, but Noct didn’t say anything so neither did he. The fish didn’t seem to be biting so he imagined that Noct was just getting bored, though he’d seen his friend spend entire days with a line in the water and nothing to show for it. 

So it wasn’t until the third time he caught Noct looking at him that Prompto put his phone back in his pocket and straightened his posture. Noct was standing at the very end of the pier with his back to the beach while Prompto had been keeping an eye on him from a few feet away. Now he stepped up closer and leaned forward to look down into the water, watching their reflections wiggle for a moment. There were no fish in sight--the water was so crystal clear that Prompto could see all the way to the sandy bottom. Noct’s lure bobbed solitary on top of the gentle waves, a lonely figure.

“I think the Crownsguard cleared all the fish out,” he said, giving Noct a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. “Too much of a security threat.”

“Yeah, right,” Noct huffed. His tone was a sight gloomier than it had been earlier, and there was a shadow of a scowl on his face. 

“Hey,” Prompto said, “Wanna reel it in and go for a walk? I’ve never been to a real beach resort before.” The suggestion seemed to mollify Noct for a moment. He pulled the lure in and banished the rod to the armiger (which only made Prompto wonder what else he kept in there). The two walked back down the pier; with the quay at their backs, they moved down the beach, their boots finding difficult purchase on the sand. Far across the water, the sun was beginning to set, and Prompto thought that this would be pretty romantic if Ignis were there, instead of currently being focused on his duties.

Something was on Noct’s mind--that much was obvious, if the not-so-surreptitious glances and the way he was walking much more slowly than was normal even for him were any indication. Prompto let him work it out without prodding him. He was preoccupied himself, eyes on the sand as he searched out bits of sea glass and shells. With a noise of triumph, he bent down and picked up something smooth and green, a piece of glass that had been worn down from time in the ocean. When Prompto held it up to the light, it looked to be the same color as Ignis’ eyes. 

“So.” Noct’s voice nearly startled Prompto into dropping the piece of glass. He hurriedly tucked it away into his pocket and turned to face his friend. Noct looked like he already regretted speaking, even though he’d only gotten out one syllable.

“Sooo?” Prompto gave him a verbal nudge, folding his arms over his chest and ducking down a little. Noct was staring so hard at the ground that it was the only way Prompto could try to look him in the eye. 

Groaning, Noct reached up and rubbed his eyes, then he turned away slightly and began to fiddle with the bracer strapped to his wrist. “You and Iggy seem...good.” 

Prompto tried and failed to fight back a grin. His best friend could really be adorably awkward at times, though Prompto was pretty sure that if he said that out loud Noct might actually die of embarrassment.  _ Then I’d be thrown in the dungeons for sure. But maybe Iggy would still smuggle food down to me so I wouldn’t starve.  _

“I guess,” Prompto said, hearing the amusement in his own voice. 

“You guys are, like...happy, right? Together?” Noct was sounding more strained by the moment. Prompto couldn’t help slinging an arm around his shoulders and giving him a friendly shake.

“Yeah,” he said, the words softening as he continued, “Yeah, I think we are.” Once again, his mind flashed back to that moment on the stairs. Had it really been only this morning? The hours since had seemed to stretch on forever, trapped in a car beside his boyfriend without being able to explore this new facet of their relationship further. 

“Good,” Noct said, nearly squeaking the word. In the deepening twilight, Prompto could only just make out the red splotches on his friend’s cheeks. “That’s...good. I’m...I mean, I…”

“You alright there, buddy?” Prompto asked. As much as he was flattered by his friend’s sincere interest in his level of happiness, he didn’t want Noct blowing a gasket out here. 

“Yeah,” Noct groaned again, pulling out of Prompto’s half-hug. “I just...I’m trying to ask you something here, and it’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Prompto asked, trying again to search out his friend’s eyes in the fading light. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Noct sighed, ragged. “You know how I suck at emotional stuff. You’ve always been a lot better at it than me. Even Iggy was going on the other day about your ‘emotional intelligence,’ and he was practically beaming hearts out of his eyes the whole time. It was gross.”

Prompto burst out laughing and immediately felt bad as Noct glowered. “Sorry,” he chuckled, “I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing...no, I’m definitely laughing  _ at  _ you, but I didn’t mean to do it out loud.”

“That’s nice,” Noct said, still glaring. “Real nice. I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I’m sorry! I won’t laugh again, I promise,” Prompto said, though he had to clasp his hands over his face to hide his grin. His heart was doing ridiculous leaps in his chest at hearing how warmly Ignis talked about him when he wasn’t there, and it was hard not to smile.  _ We are pretty gross, and I love it.  _

Noct went back to pulling at his bracer, and finally released a long breath. “You guys just seem...I dunno. Really serious. So like...are you?”

“I kinda hope we are,” Prompto said, folding his arms again and shifting somewhat clumsily from one foot to the other. He bit his lip and bowed forward slightly before straightening again. “I mean...are you trying to ask how I feel about him?”

The question was met with a grimace and several seconds of extended silence. “...Maybe,” Noct finally admitted, voice low.

“I mean…,” Prompto said, feeling a blush of his own begin to spread from his cheeks to his hairline. “I really care about him a lot--”

“Do you love him?” Noct blurted the question, and immediately looked like he wished he could bury himself in the sand. The directness of the question took Prompto aback slightly, but he didn’t feel embarrassed, just...

“Yeah,” he murmured, staring at the sand. Everything had begun to glitter red and gold as the sun dipped low in the sky. It was beautiful, but Prompto didn’t reach for his camera bag. “Yeah, I think I do.” 

Once more, there was silence between them for a minute, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Prompto dug the toe of his boot into the ground, making a divot that exposed the darker, damp sand beneath the surface. 

“How do you know?” Noct asked finally, his voice small beneath the sound of the ocean wind and the gently lapping waves.

“How do I know that I love him?” Prompto asked. At Noct’s nod, he shrugged. “I dunno...it’s just how I feel.” 

With a frustrated noise, Noct dragged his fingers through his hair. “But like,  _ how?” _

Prompto opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn’t great with flowery language--he just knew that the pleasantly tight knot in his chest, that constricting warmth, was love. It was new love, the kind that would simmer down eventually and settle into his bones, as long as it had a chance to grow deeper. 

“Why do you wanna know?” Prompto asked as he crossed his ankles, balancing most of his weight on one foot. Then, a realization struck him. Tomorrow they were meeting the Oracle, and Noct would see Lunafreya again for the first time in forever. “Is this about Lady Luna?” 

Noct’s utter silence was answer enough. He shrugged after a moment.

“Dude, kinda last minute to be asking me about this,” Prompto said. “And I dunno if I’m really qualified to give relationship advice.”

“Well, it’s not like I have a lot of options. If I asked Gladio he’d just make fun of me, and if I asked Ignis he’d try to give me the sex talk, and if I asked my dad I might physically die, so…,” he trailed off, shrugged again. “I just...Luna is one of my oldest friends. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, and I just...don’t know how I feel, if that makes sense. I care about her, yeah, but like...I don’t know in what way?” Prompto could hear the confusion in Noct’s words, and thought he understood.

“Dude, it doesn't have to make sense,” Prompto said, “Relationships and love are complicated. It's not, like, black and white like some corny romantic comedy. I mean, sometimes it can be, but a lot of times it's just confusing as hell and you have no idea what the fuck is happening.”

“Gee, thanks, that's really comforting,” Noct snorted.

“I'm just telling you what I think,” Prompto shot back. “Some people you just know you love, like your parents or your best friend,” at this,  he reached over and poked Noct the shoulder. “Sometimes it's harder to figure out.”

There was silence for a few beats, then Noct asked, “But you love Ignis.” He said it like he was afraid to hear the answer again, quietly and with a fragile edge.

Prompto swallowed. “Yeah,” he whispered, concentrating on how that made him feel, trying to dredge up the right words. These were words he should be saving for Ignis, but his best friend needed him, too. “And it’s like...He...he makes me happier than I've ever been. I feel safe with him, like, not just physically protected, but like I know he'd never do anything to hurt me in any way.” 

“He wouldn't,” Noct said with soft conviction. “I've never seen  _ him _ this happy either. You guys...you two are good for each other.”

Prompto had been sure he was over-sharing, but for once Noct didn't seem put-out by his gushing. It felt weird to be taking to his normally reticent friend about their feelings once again, but Prompto wasn't about to question it.

“You think so?” Prompto asked.

“Yeah. You're totally annoying about it, but I'm glad you found each other the way you did.” 

“Me too,” Prompto said, pleased that his friend felt that way. Sometimes with Noct it was hard to tell.  _ Maybe we should talk in the dark more often so we can’t see each other’s faces _ . “But, hey, don't compare yourself to us, okay? You don't have to act the same way, and you don't have to try and force yourself to feel a certain way just because people expect you to. And...and I think you should talk about this with Lady Lunafreya. If you can understand how she feels then it could help you figure yourself out.”

Noct shifted in the dark, and Prompto could sense eyes on him, though there was no way Noct could see him clearly. “When did you get all wise about this kind of stuff?”

Prompto squirmed, shrugged. “I dunno. I just...go with what I feel. My mom likes to say that I think with my heart.”

Noct was quiet again for a minute. “She's right,” he said. 

“Well, she usually says it when I do something dumb for one of my friends. You know, because I love you all so much I don’t use my brain to think things through,” Prompto added. 

“Yeah, you are pretty dense,” Noct mused, dodging the fist Prompto aimed at his shoulder.

“Great. I guess our meaningful talk is over then? Because it’s getting spooky-dark out here and I’m pretty sure daemons were mentioned in the briefing for this trip,” Prompto pointed out. The sun still lingered on the horizon, illuminating the beach in fading reds and golds. Even as Prompto spoke he could see a dim outline of a Glaive watching them from the direction of the quay, ever ready to rush in and protect the prince. 

“I think between the two of us we could handle a couple measly daemons, but if you’re scared,” Noct said, letting the statement hang as he turned toward the quay. Seconds later Prompto dashed past him, smacking the back of Noct’s head as he went. Noct grunted in surprise, and then Prompto heard rapid footsteps in the sand behind him as his best friend gave chase. All he could do was laugh, and try not to stumble on the sand beneath his feet.

x  


When they got back to the quay, Ignis was unloading a last bag from the Regalia. Prompto angled toward him as he ran and both he and Noct reached the advisor at the nearly the same moment. Breathless, they adopted expressions of innocence as Ignis turned a wry look on them both. 

“Good to see that you’re both behaving with the gravitas expected of the Prince of Lucis and his retainers,” Ignis said. He held the bag out by its strap--it was a heavy looking duffle, and Noct and Prompto exchanged looks before Prompto shrugged and took the burden from his boyfriend. “Kind of you,” Ignis said, as if he hadn’t foisted it off, “Noct, the marshal wanted to speak with you. He’s by the camper.” Ignis nodded toward an unhitched trailer home where Cor was busy speaking with an unfamiliar man, a local by the looks of him. 

“Where are we sleeping, Igs?” Prompto asked, hoping it wasn’t in the camper itself. He’d read up on Galdin Quay online, and he’d been looking forward to spending a night in a luxury seaside hotel room. Even if he didn’t get to take advantage of any of the amenities that were offered, it was still another exciting thing that he’d never imagined being able to do. 

“I’ll show you our room,” Ignis said. Then he offered Prompto his arm, crooked at the elbow, and Prompto snorted even as his heart fluttered. He shifted the duffle to other hand, then took the proffered arm and let Ignis lead him toward the long pier that stretched out to the resort restaurant and hotel. 

The tables at the restaurant were free of tourists, though a few Glaives and Crownsguard were around, looking deceptively leisurely. A woman stood inside a circular bar at the center of the building; she wore a chef’s uniform and seemed nervously interested in the going’s on around her. 

Ignis steered Prompto toward the left, their destination an ornate door set in a wall above a short flight of stairs. A keycard was produced from within Ignis’ leather coat, and then the door was being pushed open. Prompto stepped inside, momentarily amazed by the view through a wall composed entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows. Somebody had pulled the blinds back to allow the last rays of sunset to bathe the room in pinkish light. 

There was a touch on his hand, and Prompto felt the bag handle being taken from him. And then Ignis filled his vision, stepping between Prompto and the windows. “Do you like the view?” Ignis asked him quietly. 

“Uh-huh,” Prompto murmured, blinking up into Ignis’ warm eyes. Without needing to think about it, he placed a hand on Ignis’ chest and slowly pushed him back. A questioning brow was raised, but Prompto gave another gentle push and Ignis stepped back, then back again, easily walking in reverse as Prompto followed. Then Ignis’ legs hit the bed Prompto had been nudging him toward, and he let himself totter back, understanding alighting on his features. 

Wordless, Prompto straddled him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of Ignis’ lap, then he was kissing that perfect bow-shaped mouth. Ignis’ hands found purchase on his sides, holding him in place as Prompto cupped his jaw with both hands. For a few minutes, all they did was let their lips take charge, moving in unison until Prompto broke to suck in air. He found Ignis’ gaze and let his eyes trail along his boyfriend’s features, his thumbs tracing back and forth along Ignis’ jaw. 

“What are you thinking?” Ignis breathed, drawing Prompto’s eyes back to his. Cocking his head, Prompto looked down at him thoughtfully, chest thrumming. 

After a moment, he said, “I’m thinking I wanna ride your dick.” Ignis’ breath caught and his throat bobbed noticeably at this, and Prompto felt his pulse jump, even if he knew that they didn’t exactly have the luxury of time or privacy. “Or maybe you could ride mine,” he added, fighting back a smile as he watched Ignis’ pupils expand.

“There’s an idea,” Ignis managed to croak out. He swallowed, hard, then wrapped his arms around Prompto’s back, holding him close. “What brought this on? You know this isn’t really the time or place.” There wasn’t a trace of reprimand in his voice, though he did look a bit rueful behind the pink flush on his cheekbones. 

Prompto shrugged. “I dunno. I guess...today was a really good day for us,” he said. He let himself smile then, settling his arms around Ignis’ shoulders. “I really didn’t think you’d be that big into PDA, Iggy.” 

Ignis released a hand from Prompto’s back and coughed lightly into his fist--Prompto was beginning to see it as a nervous habit, something endearing. “Yes. Well. You seem to enjoy it.” In a softer voice he said, “It’s a bit nerve wracking, after keeping it a secret for so long. But it’s also an immeasurable relief.” At that, he pressed a kiss into the hollow at Prompto’s throat, and then rested his forehead against Prompto’s shoulder. 

“Aw, Iggy,” Prompto said, tightening his hold. He knew Ignis was talking about more than just their relationship, and he felt another surge of pride and affection. He pressed a kiss into Ignis’ hair, and smoothed a gloved hand through the styled locks in a way that was sure to leave Ignis looking ruffled. 

They stayed that way for a moment, and would have stayed even longer than that had the door not suddenly been flung open. 

“See?” Noct’s voice said from behind Prompto. He felt Ignis stiffen a little in his arms, but Prompto remained motionless, ignoring the prince. “I told you they’d be going at it. No morning training for a week.”

“They’re not ‘going at it,’” Gladio’s voice argued, “They’re just snuggling.”

“So?”

“So we both lose the bet.”

Prompto pressed his face into Ignis’ neck to hide his snort, only for Ignis to finally sit up straight, directing a reproachful look first at Prompto, then at the other two men. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t place bets regarding our relationship.”

“You’re the ones who keep making out everywhere,” Noct said with a scoff. Then, before Ignis could retort, he said, “I’m starving. Are we eating at this fancy restaurant, or what?” 

“I believe that is the plan,” Ignis sighed, giving Prompto a final squeeze before motioning for him to stand. Prompto scrambled off of Ignis’ lap so his boyfriend could stand up and smooth his rumpled uniform. “They have an extensive seafood menu, here. And we can review the itinerary for tomorrow a final time whilst we eat.”

Noct groaned, but he seemed a bit lighter than he had back on the beach. The slump to his shoulders was obviously exaggerated, and he gave a tiny smirk when he caught Prompto looking at him. “Let’s get it over with, then,” he said, words belied by the ghost of anticipation that in glittered his eyes for the day to come. Apprehension was there too, but the Prince of Lucis wasn’t dragging his feet anymore.

And Prompto felt his heart tighten as well, knowing that tomorrow he would meet Lady Lunafreya, the person responsible for helping him change his life for the better. He reached for Ignis’ hand, lacing their fingers together and offering his boyfriend a smile.  _ Tomorrow I’ll finally get a chance to thank her in person, _ he thought. Even though he knew that simple words would never be enough, he couldn’t suppress the thrill of expectation at what tomorrow would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you guys xoxo


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had kind of a rough time editing this. Sundays give me headaches, but hopefully it's in decent shape. Enjoy <3

On some level, Prompto was aware that he was dreaming. He was somewhere that was cold in every sense of the word, sterile and bereft of any trace of comfort. Deep down, he had the strangest feeling of familiarity with this environment, though he still longed for what little warmth he was able to find. He was alone, afraid, and it was so... _ bright. _ Light seared into his eyes, blinding, though there was no heat to it. Beyond the stark illumination, he could see figures moving, limned and shadowy, looming. 

“Help me,” he tried to say, but the words came out as no more than a pathetic whimper. He could barely move, strength sapped by the cold, flat surface he lay on. The figures moved closer, speaking in a garbled language that he didn't understand. Harsh hands took hold of him, firm and icy, and he braced himself for what he knew was coming. 

A needle flashed, pain burned up his arm and he began to wail, helpless and frightened and--

Something was shaking him. One of the hands on him was warm--when had that happened? That warmth drove back the cold and the fear, pulling him back, back away from the frigid light. Prompto blinked into darkness, breathing hard, enveloped by that comforting heat. There was a voice in dark, disembodied, murmuring gently to him as he slowly gathered his wits.

“...just a dream, darling. You're all right.” Ignis. Of course, it was Ignis. They were sharing one of the luxurious hotel beds, wrapped securely in silky sheets. Prompto was huddled against Ignis’ chest, shivering as the remnants of the dream fled his mind. 

“Iggy?” he mumbled, groggy and still slightly disoriented. Safe. He was safe, and warm, and the dream didn’t matter anymore. Ignis’ arms were a comforting weight around him, solid and real. 

“I'm here,” Ignis whispered to him, no more than a shape in the dark. For a moment, he reminded Prompto of the figures from his dream, and Prompto shuddered, but he didn’t pull away.  _ I’m safe. I’m awake. I’m with Ignis.  _

“Sorry to wake you,” Ignis continued, “You seemed to be having a nightmare.” His voice was apologetic, calm, laced with concern. Prompto couldn’t make out his face, but he could imagine the sleepy expression Ignis wore, the simple affection that would be radiating from his eyes. 

“S’fine,” Prompto said, voice rough as he rubbed a hand across his face. “M’fine.”

“Are you sure? Do you want any water?” Ignis smoothed a hand over Prompto’s hair, the action more soothing than he probably realized. 

“Mmm,” Prompto hummed. Ignis’ heat was so inviting; Prompto couldn’t help but settle against him once more; suddenly the dream seemed unimportant, already half-forgotten. Now that he was awake enough to realize he’d only been dreaming, he just wanted to go back to sleep. “I'm ok.”

“All right,” Ignis said with fondness as Prompto snuggled close, arms circling around one another more securely. “Good night.” 

Prompto made a noise that approximated something akin to “you too” and drifted back to sleep with the feeling of Ignis’ lips pressed to his forehead. No more dreams disturbed his sleep that night. By the time morning came, the entire event had faded from his mind. 

 

X

 

“Darling,” a voice murmured in his ear, drawing him slowly up from the depths of sleep. “Darling, it’s time to get up.” Waking up to the sound of Ignis’ voice was something Prompto could never possibly get sick of. It sure beat being jarred awake by a rude alarm clock, though Prompto still made a show of grumbling and pulling the covers close. 

“Too early,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as soft lips played over his forehead and fingers carded tenderly through his hair. Normally, he was more amenable to getting out of bed in the morning, but that day waking up was the last thing he wanted to do. His eyes didn’t want to open, and his body pleaded to remain under the downy comforter where it was nice and warm.

Ignis was merciless, though. He always let everyone sleep in as long as they could get away with it, but that morning there was no leniency to be found. 

“Up with you,” he said, managing to sound both stern and indulgent. “Come on now, my dear. You’ll want to get in the shower before Noctis, I’m sure.”

That statement finally spurred Prompto into opening his eyes. The room was dimly lit, and it took him a moment to orient himself--the hotel, Galdin, the Oracle. At that, his heart gave a funny jolt, and Prompto sat up, fighting back a yawn.

“What time is it?” he asked, blinking the bleariness from his eyes. Everything was slightly blurry without his contacts, including Ignis’ face. Prompto thought he saw the ghost of amusement there, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Nearly seven,” Ignis said. He was already fully dressed, of course, wearing a uniform that had been washed and pressed by the hotel’s laundry service. Throwing back the covers, Prompto stumbled out of bed and hurried for the bathroom. There was a lump on the other bed that had to be Noct. Gladio was nowhere to be seen, but Prompto was sure that the Shield had been up at least as long as Ignis had. 

A hot shower in the hotel bathroom helped Prompto to shake off the unusual grogginess that had gripped him. The scent from the tiny bottles of expensive soap, shampoo, and conditioner invigorated him and left him feeling weirdly pampered. If he’d waited to shower after Noct, he’d have been biding his time forever while the prince used up all of that delicious hot water. Prompto was pretty sure Noct could fall asleep in the shower, which would explain why he always took so damn long. 

When he climbed out of the shower stall, he found his uniform folded neatly on the sink, next to a fluffy hotel towel. Even Ignis’ towels--which were ridiculously soft and always clean--weren’t this nice. Prompto almost wished he could just wear that towel all day instead of getting dressed, but it would probably be bad form to meet the Oracle while half-naked.  _ That’d be quite the first impression, though. She’d definitely never forget me.  _

Noct was sitting up on his hotel mattress when Prompto emerged from the bathroom, cocooned in fine sheets with a disgruntled look on his face. The moment the bathroom was free, he struggled to his feet without dropping his armor of sheets, and hobbled past Prompto.

“I thought he’d be a little more cheerful today,” Prompto said as the bathroom door clunked shut behind him.

Ignis was sitting in a chair by a small table, scrolling a finger down his tablet screen. Gladio sat in the opposite chair, drinking from a mug. Today he wore a shirt underneath his leather coat, and Prompto imagined that Ignis had bullied him into it.

“I only needed to give him one good shake to rouse him,” Ignis said without looking up from his tablet screen, “So I’d say he’s in far better spirits than usual for being woken so early.” He was frowning, so Prompto went over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leaning his cheek against Ignis’ as he bent close to snoop.

“Bad news?” he said, seeing that Ignis had a news app open. He had to squint to see the screen, and Ignis must have noticed.

“Not precisely. Go put your contacts in, darling. Crowds are gathering outside to greet the Oracle, and the marshal is getting antsy,” he said. 

Prompto did as he was told as Ignis explained that a particularly scathing article regarding the peace conference had been published only that morning. Several online publications were already running with it, mostly conservative outlets that thought Insomnia should remain closed off from the world in an insular little bubble. 

“Cor’s worried it’ll get the anti-Nif protesters too worked up,” Gladio said through a yawn. “We just gotta roll with it, though. We’re as prepared as we’re gonna get.” 

Prompto stuffed his contact case back in his bag and gazed worriedly toward the door. “But the Nifs aren’t even coming here,” he said, “They’re flying in tonight while everybody is distracted by the Oracle and her family.” That had been the plan, to secret the Niflheim delegation into the city to a non-disclosed location. Any would-be troublemakers wouldn’t know where to make their trouble.

“That’s right,” Ignis said, but he was still frowning. 

“Well, nobody’s actually gonna try to hurt the Oracle, right? That’d be like, a huge divine no-no or something, wouldn’t it? Even people who hate the Nifs wouldn’t take it out on her,” Prompto said. All this time he’d been under the impression that all this security was solely for Noct’s sake, not for the Oracle. Who in their right mind would hurt someone who was so universally loved, who healed the sick and held back the darkness?

Finally, Ignis seemed to realize that Prompto was working himself into a panic, and his expression became something warmer. “I don’t think anybody would attack us here,” he said, placating, “But it’s our duty to be on guard, and to be prepared for the worst.” 

Prompto nodded, took a deep breath. This was what he had trained for, but the sudden implication that something bad might actually happen made him remember that he was half-trained at best. 

A heavy hand landed against his back then, nearly knocking him forward. It was Gladio who stood over him, giving him a reassuring smirk.

“Cor wouldn’t have let you come along if he thought you’d be dead weight in a fight, Blondie. Relax,” he said. 

His matter-of-fact tone made Prompto believe him--more than the actual words did, anyway.  _ Gotta stop freaking out like this. Nobody will want me on their team if I’m constantly doubting myself. I’m a Crownsguard. I am. _

Drawing in another calming breath, Prompto nodded. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I guess I’ll go out and scope out the situation.” 

“I’ll join you,” Ignis said, rising from his seat and setting the tablet aside. At the door, he caught Prompto’s elbow and leaned in for a brief peck on the lips. “Ready?” he asked, his mien calm and self-assured. Prompto felt himself relaxing further, comforted by Ignis’ confidence. They could handle anything. Even if Prompto was lacking, he was surrounded by professionals who knew what they were doing. All he had to do was follow their lead.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready.”

 

X

 

Waiting for something important to happen was probably the worst feeling in the world. Cor was in contact with the ferry bringing the Oracle to Galdin Quay, and he gave periodic updates on their progress, but it was taking  _ hours. _ Allegedly, everything was right on schedule, which only made the waiting all the worse.

Prompto and Ignis had gotten as far as the middle of the pier leading up to the beach before turning back toward the restaurant--there were enough security personnel at the beach to handle the growing crowds, as Ignis pointed out. 

And what a crowd it was that had gathered; there had to be hundreds of people waiting. A waist-high barrier of bright white ribbons suspended between short metal poles had been erected at some point, and the throngs were edged up against it. The corridor created by this insubstantial wall was wide enough to roll a car through, beginning on the dry dock and heading down the stairs to the parking lot, then winding up the road. A line of cars was waiting to receive both the retinue from Insomnia, and the Oracle’s delegation.

Camera in hand, Prompto used the lens as a looking glass to scan the crowds from the dock of the restaurant. There were hundreds of excited faces, a few impatient or bored looking people, but nobody who looked angry or worried or suspicious. He had already taken dozens of pictures, first focusing on the crowd, and when that got boring, he’d turned his camera on other targets. He’d gotten a few great shots of that strange looking island just off the coast, Angelgard. 

Ignis had briefly explained the history of the island, about the lone prison that occupied the stone grounds, about how it was supposed to be the gathering place of the gods. The place was uninhabited, though, and nobody was allowed to travel there. All of that had been interesting to learn, but now Ignis was preoccupied with Noct and the marshal, their heads all bent together. They hadn’t exactly excluded Prompto, but Cor had asked only to speak to the two of them, and so Prompto was left to his own devices. 

“Exciting, isn’t it?” a familiar voice drawled. Prompto started, looking up to see Nyx Ulric watching him with a smile. He realized he’d been sort of loosely holding his camera at chin level, gazing out blankly across the water toward the crowded shore. Without anybody to talk to, he’d just sort of been wandering around the restaurant, idly taking shots of anything that caught his eye.

“Uh, yeah,” Prompto said, embarrassed at being caught spacing out. 

“The waiting is always the worst part,” Nyx said, tone dry. He folded his arms over his chest and fell silent, his expression neutral but watchful. Prompto pretended to fiddle with his camera while surreptitiously trying to watch the Glaive out of the corner of his eye. 

“Have you…,” he began, and wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He felt like he was being nosy, but Nyx was looking at him now so he forced himself to keep talking. “Have you been in the Kingsglaive long?”

Nyx shrugged, like it wasn’t worth mentioning. “I was one of the first to sign up for it, while the war was still going on. Right at the tail end, when the fighting was getting really ugly.” 

“Oh,” Prompto said. Nyx looked and sounded like he was from outside the wall, and he seemed to know things that a real outsider would probably know. Had he seen the fighting, then? He couldn’t have been more than thirty, so he would have been around Prompto’s age now when the Empire surrendered. Prompto knew it had been bad, that a lot of civilians had died when the Empire had begun to invade Lucian territory. What did somebody like Nyx think of having a peace conference with an old enemy?

As badly as he wanted to ask, he probably would have begun babbling questions if Ignis hadn’t swooped in to rescue him from himself. 

“The ferry is thirty minutes out,” Ignis announced as he strode smoothly up to stand alongside Prompto. “You can see it on the horizon, if you squint.”

Prompto felt a jolt in his stomach. So soon, after what felt like hours and hours of loitering around? “Not long now, huh,” he said, hearing the nervous note in his voice. Ignis put an arm around him, eyebrow raised. 

“Feeling anxious again?” Ignis asked him.

“I’m only about to meet Tenebraen royalty. And, y’know, the Oracle?” Prompto said with a sigh. “I’m fine, though. I’ll live.”

“You hang around royalty all the time,” he heard Nyx say, and there was a hint of amusement in the Glaive’s voice.

“Yeah, but Noct is a nerd, he doesn’t count,” Prompto said. A second later he realized his faux pas, and clamped his hands over his mouth as a blush rose hot and high on his cheeks. He probably shouldn’t talk about the prince so casually when he was on duty, or around bodyguards and important people. “I mean, uh, I--,” he floundered, mortified.

“We should perhaps join the others,” Ignis said, voice strained with concealed amusement. Nyx Ulric made a short choking noise, and coughed into his fist. 

“Right. Good luck, Argentum,” the Glaive said as Ignis tactfully steered Prompto away. 

When they were out of earshot, alone in a rotund seating area above the landing dock where the others were waiting, Ignis pulled Prompto to a stop. “You’re making friends all over,” he said. He was trying to sound admonitory, but Prompto’s verbal gaff still had him smiling.

“I thought you weren’t jealous,” Prompto grumbled, still patting his cheeks, trying to cool away the embarrassment. 

“Jealous, no, but please try not to call our dear prince a ‘nerd’ in front of his subordinates. Or the press, or any political officials,” Ignis said. 

“I know,” Prompto groaned. “I’m sorry.” He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and shifted sideways into Ignis when he felt his boyfriend’s arm wrap around his shoulders.

“You’re fine,” Ignis murmured. “Don’t work yourself up over it, all right?” Prompto made a miserable noise in response, and felt Ignis heave a laugh. 

“Ok. I’m ok, I’m good,” Prompto said, letting his hands drop down to where his camera dangled from his neck, “But if I say something embarrassing in front of Lady Lunafreya you have to promise to put me out of my misery.”

“On my honor,” Ignis said, making it into a solemn vow. Sighing, Prompto let himself lean into his boyfriend’s warmth as they looked out over the water. There was a shape on the horizon, a small blob that was growing larger by increments--Prompto swallowed hard, caught between nerves and anticipation. He looked down, fussing idly with the settings on his camera, though he was too jittery now to try to focus on taking pictures. 

“ _ Are _ you all right, though?” Ignis asked.

Glancing up at him out of the corner of his eye, Prompto could see the sudden furrow his boyfriend's brow, his mouth set downward in concern. 

“Uh, yeah?” he answered, “I’m just being dramatic, as usual.”

“No, dear, I mean--,” Ignis paused, lips pressed thin, “Last night you seemed to be having a nightmare. I was just wondering if something else were bothering you, or if you were feeling unwell this morning.”

“Oh,” Prompto said, “I don’t think so? I don’t remember--,” but then he  _ did  _ remember. It was sort of foggy, dreamlike, his memory of being woken the night before. The dream itself was easier to recall, familiar and disturbing. “Oh,” he said again, more quietly.

When he didn’t continue, Ignis gave him a gentle shake. “Prompto? What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” Prompto said, too fast. “It’s fine. I don’t really remember the dream.” It was, apparently, too late to try and cover his tracks. There was a sigh very close to his ear, and then he felt the smooth leather of Ignis’ driving glove on his jaw. Carefully, Ignis’ hand tilted Prompto’s head up, and Prompto reluctantly met his gaze. Guilt twinged in his chest when he saw the earnest concern in those forest green eyes.

“Prompto, my dear,” Ignis said to him, “You realize, I hope, that you are a terrible liar.”

A smile tugged at Prompto’s lips, in spite of himself. “Yeah,” he sighed, “It's my one and only flaw.”  _ Out of a thousand other flaws. _

Ignis allowed a small smile at that, and he reached up with his other hand, stroking his bare thumbs along Prompto’s jaw. They were facing each other fully now, with only Prompto’s camera between them. 

“It must be quite a burden to be nearly perfect,” Ignis said.

“I make do,” Prompto said with a careless little half-shrug. Tension he'd been harboring all day began to ease away under Ignis’ touch. It still amazed Prompto, the effect Ignis could have on him.

Ignis leaned in close, and Prompto let his eyes drift shut. Rather than the long kiss he'd been hoping for, Ignis barely brushed their lips together before pulling back. “Iggy,” he whispered. 

“Do you have nightmares often?” Ignis murmured, and Prompto’s eyes popped open again. A part of him expected Ignis to look stern or worried again, but he was simply calm and expectant, watching Prompto and waiting. 

“I...not really. Not  _ lately _ ,” he amended. “I guess I used to when I was little, but I don't really remember that.” He bit his lip and let his eyes drop to Ignis’ chest. The little skull pendant he wore was visible above the unbuttoned neckline of his shirt. Unconsciously, Prompto reached up and began to fidget with the charm, the metal warm to the touch from resting against Ignis’ skin. 

“And last night?” Ignis prompted him when he didn't elaborate.

Groaning softly, Prompto pinched the skull between his fingers until the flesh went white. Was this really the best time to go delving into deep, dark secrets?  _ Well, maybe not so deep and dark. Just weird. _ But this was Ignis, and maybe the distraction would help keep his anxiety in check. 

“Did I ever tell you I was adopted?” he asked.

If Ignis was confused by the apparent subject change, he didn't show it. “You did not, but...I was made aware of your circumstances.”

Bemused, Prompto looked up at his boyfriend, and was only further confused by the sheepish look on Ignis’ face. “Did Noct tell you?” he asked. 

“Not as such,” Ignis said. He broke eye contact to cough into one of his fists, that nervous gesture of his again. 

“So…?” Prompto said, curiosity getting the better of him.

Ignis moved both hands to Prompto’s shoulders, locking eyes with him again. “Please don't take this the wrong way, but when you first befriended Noct, I felt it behooved me to...learn all I could about you.”

The words took a moment to click, but the realization itself wasn’t entirely shocking. “Oooh,” Prompto said, trying and failing not to grin. “So you, what? Ran a background check on me to make sure I wasn't a hardened, fifteen-year-old criminal?”

“Yes, and don't look so bloody amused, would you? I feared you'd be a poor influence on Noct, or that you were just another fool after his status.” Ignis squeezed his shoulders, “But you turned out to be so sweet and utterly without guile that I always felt guilty for my mistrust.”

“Aw, babe,” Prompto cooed, letting go of the pendant and sliding his free hand up to cup the side of Ignis’ neck. “You don't have to feel bad. I get it.” 

“Well...that's a relief,” Ignis said. Then he leaned in to press another brief kiss to Prompto’s lips before he added, “I take it that your being adopted has something to do with your dream?”

“Maybe,” Prompto said with a half shrug, “I dunno. I just...I dunno where I came from, Iggy. Nobody does. The adoption agency said I was dropped off anonymously at a hospital, so there's no way to trace anything that happened to me before that. They didn't even know for sure how old I was, they just guessed. My birthday isn't even my birthday, it's just the day my adoption was finalized.”

As he spoke, the the words came easier. This was all stuff he'd never told anyone, not even Noct--who only knew that Prompto was adopted--but the look on Ignis’ face said he was aware of most of what Prompto had just told him.

“So you don't know who your real parents are, and--,” Ignis began, but Prompto cut him off with an unexpected flash of anger.

“My parents  _ are _ my real parents,” he said coolly, and instantly regretted it. Nobody could ever accuse Prompto of having a bad temper, but there were a few things that without fail could rile him right up--but the anger always fizzled out almost before it had a chance to burn. 

Several beats passed in silence, the air feeling tense around them. “Of course,” Ignis murmured finally, contrite, “I misspoke. Forgive me.”

Prompto heaved a sigh, shaking his head ruefully. “No, it's fine. I'm sorry for snapping. You're not the first person to make the same mistake. It's just...I don't really care who my biological parents are. They didn't want me, so…” he shrugged, pulling his hand down from Ignis’ neck. 

“They don't know what they gave up,” Ignis said, soft but fierce. Prompto pressed his mouth into a thin line, and blinked away the heat trying to flood his eyes. 

“Jeez, Iggy, don't make me cry,” he huffed. He released the grip he had on his camera, letting it hang around his neck and wrapping his hand around the innocuous leather cuff he wore. The cuff on his wrist felt suddenly too tight as he flexed his fingers, regarding the bracelets with trepidation. Nobody had ever questioned why he always kept his right wrist covered, and he had never volunteered the information. 

“Have you ever seen my...tattoo?” It wasn't a tattoo. Not really. Tattoos were voluntary, recreational. What Prompto had felt more like a brand, but he couldn't say that out loud.

“No,” Ignis said, frowning. “I didn't realize you had one.”

That startled a soft laugh out of Prompto. “Guess it was too weird to put in my adoption file.” At Ignis’ perplexed look, Prompto glanced past his boyfriend's shoulder--nobody was paying them any attention, but it looked like they were going to need to join the others soon. 

Slowly, Prompto released the grip he had on his wrist, and pulled the cuff further up his arm. Just an inch or so, just enough to reveal the markings on his skin. He avoided looking at it directly, avoided looking at Ignis even as he hunched toward his boyfriend. 

“I've always had it. I don't know why, or what it means, but--,” His throat grew tight, and he paused to swallow past it. “I have these dreams sometimes, but...they feel more like...memories. I'm somewhere cold and bright, and I'm so,  _ so _ scared, and there's this  _ pain _ .” He flexed his right hand, and started when Ignis’ fingers closed around the exposed mark. 

Still, he couldn't look up, so he babbled on. “I had nightmares when I was really little, like I said, for like a year after I was adopted. I probably had them before that, too, but I don't think the agency told my parents. I woke up screaming a lot and my parents would have to hold me for half the night. So, I don't know where I came from, and I don't really wanna know if...if that dream is real. I don't wanna know who would do... _ this _ to me, y'know.”  

Ignis’ other hand grasped Prompto’s wrist, and both hands pulled his arm up. “Iggy,” he whispered, squirming, afraid Ignis was going to stare at it, scrutinize the numbers, the black bars. Instead, he watched with wide eyes as Ignis brought the mark to his mouth, and softly pressed his lips against it.

After a moment he pulled back just slightly. “I'm sorry this was done to you,” he said thickly,  “I had no idea.” 

Prompt shook his head. “No one does. I never...I never told anyone all that. I don't even talk to my parents about it. They just pretend the...the mark isn't there, like they’re scared to upset me. And I think Noct has seen it, but he never asks about it.” Prompto took a shaky breath as Ignis kissed the mark again, then pulled him into a hug. Prompto had to shift his camera awkwardly to the side, but he needed this--needed Ignis to hold him, to know Ignis wasn't repulsed by this weird emotional baggage. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Ignis said, and Prompto sniffed as he tucked his face into the crook of Ignis’ neck. 

“I wanted to,” Prompto said, voice muffled. “I'm glad you know now.” 

And he  _ was  _ glad. It was strange, knowing that someone else knew, but it was also a relief. Prompto had tried to put all of this out of his mind for so long that talking about it had felt surreal. He liked to pretend that the mark on his arm didn’t exist, that maybe if he ignored it for long enough that he’d simply forget it was there. Someday he was just going to work up his nerve and go to a tattoo parlor and get the stupid thing covered up, but until then he would just have to try his best to keep it hidden.

“Hey, lovebirds.” Prompto squeaked and jerked around, pressing his wrist against his hip to hide the mark. Gladio was standing only about five feet away, leaning against a wooden railing, one eyebrow quirked up at them. “Boat’s gonna be here soon. Cor wants us all lined up, presentable-like.”

“Of course,” Ignis said. Prompto had to wonder how his boyfriend was always able to recover so smoothly from being interrupted. His own heart was thudding, face flushed, though that was partly due to the fact that the mark wasn’t properly covered. At least Gladio didn’t seem to notice when Prompto quickly pushed his cuff back into place--maybe that was a benefit to being a constant fidgeter. Nobody paid attention when he squirmed. 

Prompto returned his camera safely to its bag, leaving it behind in the hotel room with more than a little reluctance. He couldn’t let himself be encumbered by anything “unimportant,” just in case something went awry, and his camera could possibly get in the way if they had to fight. Prompto didn’t think he’d try to protect his camera in lieu of defending Noct or the Oracle, but it was best not to risk it.

With that task complete, they joined the others down on the landing dock. Noct had gone from seeming expectant to looking a pale, nervous again. Prompto was glad he wasn’t the only one, but he made sure to nudge his best friend with a commiserating elbow. The action interrupted whatever panicky train of thought was preoccupying Noct just enough for him to nudge Prompto back. After that, he stood up a little straighter and looked less like he wanted to run to the railing and barf over the side. 

Everyone was being unusually quiet, except for a bit of murmuring between Ignis and the marshal. Anticipation hung strongly in the air, buoyed by the ever-present hum of the crowds back on shore. Prompto felt anxious again, still, but not in the usual way. There was no tight knot in his stomach, no feeling of wanting to get things over with or hide from it all. He just felt...ready. 

When he glanced up at Ignis and saw the ever-neutral expression on his face, it made Prompto grin. He reached out slowly, brushing his fingers against Ignis’, and watched him try to fight the smile that made his perfect lips curve up at the corners. With more surety, he took Ignis’ hand in his and squeezed it, and received a light squeeze in return. 

_ I love you,  _ he thought, and nothing had ever been more clear to him than that. He’d shown Ignis his biggest secret, the thing that gave him nightmares and made him afraid to know where he’d come from--and Ignis was still holding his hand.

Prompto knew then that he was going to tell Ignis how he felt. The next time they were alone, maybe that night when they retired to Ignis’ room. It was all he could do not to just blurt it out right there in front of everybody, but he wanted the first time to be just between them. After that, he was going to say it every chance he got. 

_ If Iggy wants me to. If he says it back. _ But the prospect that Ignis might not be ready to say it back didn’t make Prompto quail this time. What was important was making sure that Ignis knew that Prompto loved him, wholly and without reservation. 

“Not much longer now,” Ignis said, “Are you ready?” 

Prompto blinked, drawn suddenly from his train of thought. He knew Ignis was asking him about the ferry that was drawing ever-nearer, pulling into the cove now, but it almost felt like Ignis had been reading his mind. “Oh yeah,” he said, smiling, “I’m  _ was born ready,  _ my dude.”

It was a struggle to stop himself from bouncing up to kiss the amused grin that made Ignis’ eyes glitter in the mid-morning light. 

 

X

 

As the ferry began to pull up to the landing dock, there was a flurry of activity on board. Ropes were thrown and tied, securing the vessel in place. Prompto didn’t see any sign of Lady Lunafreya or her family on deck, and realized he was on his tiptoes trying to see over the heads of everyone around him. There were a few reporters allowed this close, shoved off into a corner against a railing, and they were busily filming and performing running commentaries in hushed tones while they also strained for a peek of the Tenebraen visitors. 

“I believe they’re waiting in the cabin until the Oracle’s honor guard can assemble,” Ignis murmured beside Prompto. 

“Oh,” Prompto said, pressing his lips together as he dropped back on his heels. On his left, Noct was also beginning to look impatient; the set to his jaw and the way he was flexing his fingers was a dead giveaway. Grinning, Prompto nudged him again, and when Noct glanced over he gave the prince an eyebrow waggle that would have made Gladio proud. That is, if the Shield wasn’t too busy looking muscly and important at the moment to notice them.

Noct rolled his eyes at Prompto, and folded his arms over his chest. There was a faint hint of red on his cheeks as he focused his gaze on the party of serious-looking folks currently disembarking from the ferry. Ten men and women, all dressed in white and silver uniforms, formed ranks on the pier. Space was becoming limited, but they made a tunnel of bodies in two neat rows along the railings. The party from Lucis now faced the two nearest guards, who both performed elaborate bows.

“Your Highness, Prince Noctis,” one of the men said in a clear, accented voice. “Marshal Leonis of the Crownsguard. I am Captain Arx of the Tenebraen Royal Guard. The Queen Oracle is ready to disembark. Is your retinue prepared to receive the royal family?” 

He spoke so formally that Prompto was sure he’d sound like a complete idiot if he opened his own mouth. Thankfully, he wasn’t required to actually speak just yet. 

“We’re ready, captain,” Cor said, sounding as blunt as he ever did, though he gave a respectful incline of his head. Prompto knew from briefings that there were Tenebraen agents already in Lucis, sent ahead of the Oracle to work with the Crownsguard on security. He had no idea who or where those agents were, but that was probably the point. 

Captain Arx seemed to have trouble suppressing a distasteful look at Cor’s informality, but he nodded in acquiescence. “Very well,” he said, then he raised his wrist and muttered something into a hidden microphone that was inaudible to Prompto. 

This was it, he realized. There was motion on the ferry again, and an attendant bustled over to a door on the main cabin, pulling it open with a flourish. 

Prompto’s breath caught as a ridiculously tall man stepped through the door. White robes adorned his stately frame, and he had a mane of hair that was either white or platinum blond and swept back from his face. Said face was pulled into an expression that someone might wear if they’d just walked into a room full of dirty cat litter pans. 

Ravus Nox Fleuret, Prompto knew that much. He’d seen the guy on television occasionally, the Prince of Tenebrae, guardian of his younger sister in the same way that Ignis was the guardian of Noct. He really didn’t know anything about the man; Noct didn’t talk much about anyone he’d met in Tenebrae, except for Lunafreya. The sweeping, dissatisfied look that he gave those gathered on the pier didn’t do him any favors in Prompto’s opinion. 

_ That’s not fair. He could be nice in person. _ When he glanced at Noct to gauge his reaction, he saw that his friend was scowling, though.  _ Well, maybe. _

With a fluid grace, Ravis moved to the side of the door, holding his arm out as somebody followed in his wake. Prompto’s pulse began to race as a more familiar form stepped through the cabin door and took her brother’s proffered arm. Lady Lunafreya was also in white, wearing a dress that could only be described as elegant. Her expression was much warmer than Ravus’, a nearly imperceptible smile softening her delicate yet proud features. 

Luna had always been more prominent in the media than her brother, so Prompto had seen that same expression probably hundreds of times. It was different in real life, more radiant he thought, though maybe he was just feeling dazzled. To his chagrin, his first thought was that she was shorter in real life than he thought she’d be. That might have just been because she was standing next Ravus, who towered protectively beside her. But she definitely exuded a certain presence, not commanding exactly, but there was something about her that made it hard to look away. 

Until, that was, the third and final person stepped out of the cabin as Luna and Ravus moved deftly to the side.

A hush fell over the crowds as Queen Sylva Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae, the Oracle, emerged into the light of day. She was dressed in her full queenly raiment, a crystal crown glittering where it rested over her hair. She was draped in robes topped by golden pauldrons. Her mien  _ was  _ commanding, but not in a forceful way. 

When she moved, her children fell into step behind her. Whispers began again, but Prompto couldn’t really hear them. His heart was thudding in his ears--he felt strange, like he was the only person on the pier despite being surrounded by people. He also felt like he was frozen, like he wouldn’t be able to speak if he tried.  _ They’re going to talk to me. The queen is going to say something to me. Or Luna will. What do I say?  _

For years he’d imagined what he’d say if he ever got to meet Lunafreya face to face. He wanted to thank her for what she’d done for him, though he wondered if she even knew how she’d changed his life. Sometimes he’d also wondered if he should write her a letter, send it with the little notebook that Luna’s mysterious dog, Umbra, carried around him him. But he wasn’t good with putting words to paper. He thought that once he saw her that those words would just come, but now he couldn’t remember any of the imaginary conversations he’d had with her when he’d envisioned this moment. 

Queen Sylva walked awfully fast in that fancy getup she wore. Wasn’t it a pain to travel wearing such an elaborate outfit? He watched with increasing panic as the most elegant and powerful woman on the planet strode down the pier, past her guards, and came to a stop before Noctis. 

“Your Highness,” she said, and there was a glint in her eyes that Prompto couldn’t identify.

“Your Majesty,” Noct said, stepping forward so that he was in front of his retinue. He bowed to her, much more skillfully than Prompto could have managed, though the rest of the Lucians copied the motion. Queen Sylva met the bow with one of her own, thought not as deep. “Welcome back to Lucis. My father sends his regards, and his regrets that he couldn’t greet you personally.”

The queen raised a hand, gracefully waving away the apology. “How can I take offense when Regis sends me such a generous entourage to escort our party to Insomnia?” She moved in a little bit closer, and reached out to set a manicured hand on Noct’s shoulder. “You’ve grown since I saw you last, Prince Noctis. I’m glad to see the fine young man you’ve become.”

Prompto expected Noct to blush and look at his feet, to stutter under his breath and deflect the compliment. It was always weird to listen to him talk all prince-fully, especially when Prompto had definitely heard him use the word “whomst” within the past forty-eight hours. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” was all Noct said. Prompto heard Ignis sigh ever-so-softly beside him, a long-suffering sound. The reply must not have been sufficient, but the queen only smiled as she withdrew her hand. Behind her, Luna was smiling more widely, while Ravus was shooting Noct a displeased look. 

“Your Highness,” Cor said without moving from his position. “We should escort the Oracle to the vehicles.” 

A few of the Tenebraen guards looked almost scandalized by the suggestion, though Prompto couldn’t see why. Cor told Noct what to do all the time, but maybe he was still being too informal by Tenebraen standards. Sylva just gave a polite little nod. 

“We mustn’t keep Regis waiting,” she agreed. “And I believe our arrival has attracted a few onlookers.” Was that what she called the crowd of over a thousand people that were gathered around the beach? They were cheering now. There were so many cameras out there. Prompto was going to have to walk in front of all of those people and try not to trip over his own feet. 

What would be worse? Making a fool of himself in front of the Queen and Oracle of Tenebrae, or making a fool of himself on national television?  _ Maybe I can pull off both. And then I’ll flee to the wilderness, never to be seen again.  _

There was the gentlest touch on his elbow, the warm pressure of gloved fingers. Prompto risked a glance at Ignis. His boyfriend had his own eyes directed ahead, watching as Luna stepped forward. But of course, he knew Prompto would be panicking again. Ignis always knew about everything that was going on around him, and he knew that Prompto fluctuated between emotions at a rate not previously seen in human beings.  _ Right. I’m not nervous. I’m not. I’m fine.  _

Before them, Luna clasped Noct’s hands tightly in her own, “It’s good to see you again, Noctis,” she said, and her voice was fine and lilting. She was beautiful, the sort of beautiful that always made Prompto jam up and fumble his words, but not the kind that made his heart flutter. 

Noct said something that Prompto didn’t catch, and Luna leaned in closer, murmuring back at him. From the set of Noct’s shoulders, Prompto knew he had to be blushing now. Behind him, he heard an uptick in the excited hissing of the reporters, and he could only imagine they were losing their minds over what they were witnessing. 

Then Luna stepped back, and her eyes roved over the group assembled at Noct’s back. And those clear blue eyes landed smack-dab on Prompto, and he felt like the pier might collapse beneath him. He wished it would. Queen Sylva was moving past her daughter, and her guards were falling into step with her. Luna moved as well, as if in slow motion, toward Prompto, one hand reaching for him, her smile almost blinding. 

_ Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m not fine, I’m not fine. I can’t remember how to talk.  _ This was it. This was the moment he was going to finally die of humiliation. 

Something skittered across the pier, streaking past booted feet, past Luna’s dainty high-heels. Something small and white barreled into Prompto’s legs, chuffing and yipping in excitement, and he felt his face split into a wide grin.

“Chibi!” he exclaimed. He forgot that Luna was reaching out to shake his hand, forgot that he was in the middle of a sea of highly-trained and dangerous bodyguards and some of the most powerful people in the world. He dropped into a crouch as his one-time canine companion jumped up, placing her front paws on his chest and frantically licking at his chin as he laughed. “I missed you, too, girl,” he said. 

His chest felt unexpectedly tight. It felt like a million years ago that he’d found this injured puppy on the streets, ages since he’d brought her home and bandaged her leg. He’d been hoping his parents would let him keep her--he’d been drafting a speech in his head about how responsible he was going to be, even as he’d nervously kept the dog hidden just in case they came home before he was ready. 

Then she’d disappeared, and he’d felt wretched for weeks. Until the letter from Lady Lunafreya came in the mail and changed his life forever. 

Lady Lunafreya. She was standing there, waiting for  _ him. _

“Oh, shit,” he said. Then his face blazed hot as he bolted up into a standing position.  _ They’re going to execute me right here in front of everyone,  _ he thought. The Tenebraen guards were going to tackle him to the ground and beat him for soiling the princess’ ears with his foul language. 

Lunafreya laughed-- _ laughed _ \--as he faced her, one hand held to her collarbone, the other extending toward him and grasping one of his hands. “You must be Prompto Argentum. It is an honor to meet the man who’s been such a good friend to our dear Noctis.” 

Prompto’s jaw worked for a moment. He wasn’t dead. Luna was still smiling at him. Noct was pointedly turning his head away, so Prompto knew that the prince was smirking at his verbal misstep. 

“I--I’m...I’m really glad to meet you too, er, Your Highness,” he managed.

“Luna, please,” she said. She squeezed his hand. Her grip was firm and soft all at once, her skin silky against his own rougher hands. “I practically feel like we’re old friends ourselves.”

“Oh,” Prompto said, and he blushed again for entirely different reasons. “I...Me too.” 

“Lunafreya.” Ravus came striding forth now, effectively ruining the moment. “We should move,” he said, giving Prompto a look that wasn’t exactly fond and endearing. 

Luna sighed, never once letting her serene expression slip. “Very well, Ravus.” She took his arm again, but then held her free hand out until Noct offered her his own arm. Then the three of them fell in behind the queen as the rest of the Tenebraen guards followed. 

Prompto moved to rejoin the Crownsguard as the little white dog trotted after her owner, joined by Umbra. He hadn’t seen where either of them had come from, and wondered not for the first time if they themselves were magical. 

A hand on his shoulder stopped him before he reached the rest of the Lucians. Ignis stood at his side again, his expression one of bafflement. 

“Prompto,” he said, then paused, as if he couldn’t think of what to say.

“What’s wrong?” Prompto asked.

“How…,” Ignis stalled again, then, “Did you know Lunafreya before today?” 

“Oh,” Prompto said with a pleased little smile, “Not really. She just sent me a letter once. I saved her dog when I was a kid, and she asked me to look out for Noct.” 

A strange look passed over Ignis’ face, like something was falling into place that he hadn’t been able to see before.

“Ah,” he said. “I...was not aware of that. Why did you never mention it before?”

Prompto shrugged. “Nobody asked.” 

Ignis gave him another long look, then sighed and shook his head. His expression returned to something more affectionate. “Will you ever cease surprising me, Prompto?” 

“Gods, I hope not,” Prompto said. The sentiment warmed him. He never wanted to stop surprising Ignis, never wanted to leave his side, at least in the metaphorical sense. 

Grinning ever more broadly, he held his arm out in the same, gentlemanly fashion that Noct and Ravus had used when offering to escort Lunafreya. Ignis shook his head again, but threaded his own arm through the crook of Prompto’s elbow. Nobody paid the pair any mind as they joined the tail end of the royal procession. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anybody guess that Luna wasn’t the Oracle? I tried my best to make sure I never actually referred to her specifically when I mentioned the Oracle throughout the story. I think I did pretty well keeping mentions of the Oracle separate from Luna’s name. But this is an everybody lives fic, so maybe I’m not really that sneaky xD


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! I’m so sorry that this took so long, but the last couple months have been a bit of a strain for me. I’ve had to deal with the kerfuffle of moving to a new apartment, and also having dental appointments weekend after weekend for several months (i’m a big baby about the dentist so it was tough beans). I really wanted to post this before I moved, but I couldn’t manage to work on it enough. That good ol’ imposter’s syndrome got to me for a while, and I just kinda fell behind on everything, including responding to comments. I promise I read and appreciate every comment you leave for me, though. Your comments give me life and motivate me to keep going with this story <3<3<3
> 
> Anyhoo. I can’t believe I’m on chapter 25. I rarely manage to stick with a fic this long and still feel motivated to work on it purely because I love it. Promnis has blessed me. And of course, all of your support has kept me determined to see this through. Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was So Much happening in this chapter. I’m sorry to put off the Good Stuff another chapter, but y’all know how I do by this point. The story just goes where it wants regardless of my own intentions. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! xoxoxoxo

Leaving Galdin Quay took longer than Prompto had been expecting, although in hindsight he should have realized that they wouldn’t be making a swift exit. The Oracle and Lady Luna took their time making their way along the cleared path through the crowds, pausing every few feet to clasp hands with onlookers or graciously accept a flower.

Prompto was a little startled to see people openly weeping at the sight of the Oracle, although maybe he should have expected that, too. After all, people cried over celebrities, and as far as he knew most actors and musicians weren’t blessed by the gods and couldn’t heal the sick.  _ Except for Beyoncé, of course. _

Sylva and Luna continued to grasp waving hands, even stopping several times to speak to certain people as they made their way slowly toward the convoy. Occasionally they leaned in close to the civilians, bowing their heads to converse in an intimate fashion that had the members Tenebraen honor guard grimacing and shifting uncomfortably. Watching it all happen, Prompto got the sense that this sort of thing was a common occurrence. The women had no fear, which wasn’t exactly the same as having no sense of self-preservation. They had to know the risks of being so exposed, but they also weren’t gonna let that stop them from doing their duty to the people of Eos.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, Prompto realized that he had heard something along those lines once, on television maybe. Vaguely, he recalled sitting with his parents at home in the living room, all three of them watching a speech given by a younger Queen Sylva, probably right after the war had ended. Younger Prompto had been fidgety and bored, more interested in going back to his room to read comic books than he was in paying attention to current events.  _ Present Prompto is exactly the same, who am I kidding. _

After much consternation on the part of the security details, the queen and princess were eventually chauffered to the waiting line of vehicles. Almost everyone else had gotten to the SUVs before them, though only Cor looked visibly impatient.

Prompto was expecting Noct to try and plead his way into riding with Luna. Instead, he found himself twisting in his seat to raise an eyebrow at Noct as the prince slumped into the Regalia’s back seat. He hadn’t even put up a fuss, hadn’t pouted at Ignis to speak to Cor on his behalf or anything.

Back down the line of cars, the Nox Fleurets were climbing gracefully into one of the SUVs, a far more spacious ride than the Regalia. There was even a TV and a fridge in the car the Oracle and her family were riding in, which Prompto was only slightly jealous of. They’d be drinking champagne and watching Netflix while Prompto was in the Regalia stealing sips of Iggy’s Ebony and flipping through radio stations.

Sensing Prompto’s questioning look, Noct muttered, “I’m not spending the next ten hours in a car with Ravus.” Despite this assertion, he looked rather put out. Then he sighed and added, “Besides, they don’t want us all in one car for security, or whatever.” By “they” Prompto assumed he meant Cor. Having the Lucian crowned prince and the Nox Fleurets all together in one car would make a very convenient target, so of course the marshal wouldn’t allow such an arrangement.

“I hope you won’t forget your manners around Prince Ravus, Your Highness,” Ignis said, tone both stern and wry all at once.

“‘Course I won’t,” Noct said, lifting his nose in the air as he sat up straight in his seat, suddenly adopting a more regal air. “I have a little something called  _ class, _ which Ravus knows nothing about.” As one, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis all rolled their eyes, and if they hadn’t been in front of a roaring crowd and dozens of news crews, one or more of them might have punched Noct in the arm.

After a short delay while a final security sweep was made, they were on their way home. One by one, the line of cars pulled away from the packed parking lot and started up the hill away from Galdin Quay. Prompto turned in his seat, once more balancing on his knees to watch the resort as it disappeared from sight. The convoy rolled beneath a natural stone tunnel, and the noise of the crowds was instantly muffled, the hotel blocked now from view.

“Hey Iggy,” Prompto said, glancing to the side, “You think we can come back here someday. Just me and you?” They had already talked about taking a weekend retreat, but a trip outside the city would take some more doing than that.

Ignis didn’t reply right away, so Prompto turned to look at him, one elbow resting on the back of his seat. There was a distant look on Ignis’ face, as if he were deeply lost in thought. Before Prompto could repeat his question, Ignis blinked and breathed in deeply, coming back to himself.

“It wouldn’t be for quite some time,” he said slowly, “But I’d like that. Someday.”

Prompto grinned, and twisted back around to face front. He liked the thought of “someday.” It had a very tangible feeling to it. Maybe that was what Ignis had been thinking so hard about—months or years from now, the two of them still together, going on a romantic vacation without crowds or tagalongs.

The moment the idea took hold, Prompto felt his breath catch; the thought that in a year, in five or ten years, that they could still be together—it made his head spin. Prompto was seized by the enormity of such a thought—he’d never contemplated the future very much, except in a vague kind of way. Normally planning too far ahead made him panic, made him worry about all the things that could go wrong, but this...this was scary, but not in the usual way.

_ Someday, _ he though, giving himself a shake. No clear image came to mind, but he could see himself with Ignis for as far ahead as he could imagine.  _ I haven’t even told him I love him yet. I’m ridiculous. _

The self-deprecating thought didn’t carry the usual sting. Even the part of him that was always worrying, always ready for the worst, wanted to enjoy the thought of maybe, possibly, hopefully spending...well, a long time as Ignis’ boyfriend, or even something more, something like his—

_ Nope. Too soon. Back it up. _

He could daydream all he wanted about a long-term relationship, but  _ that  _ idea was presumptuous and—and it’d be a long, long time before anything so permanent could possibly happen. Provided Ignis was even interested in something like that.

Prompto blew out a breath, then they were emerging from beneath the rock formations and turning onto the road that would eventually bring them back to Insomnia. Something cold prickled against his skin as the Regalia picked up speed, and he looked up at the sky with pursed lips. A film of grey clouds was rolling in from the northeast, sneaking up over the high hillsides toward the unsuspecting crowds beyond.

“I didn’t know it was gonna rain,” he whined.

“I was hoping the poorer weather would turn west and miss us,” Ignis sighed. He reached over and pressed the switch that would bring the Regalia’s top up. Only seconds after they were securely shielded, the sky opened up, dumping a torrent of rain down on the desert around them. If the beautiful weather they’d enjoyed the previous morning had felt like a good omen, then this this gloomy rain was an annoying one at the very least.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a parade or something when we get back?” Prompto grumbled, watching rain streak down his window. No pictures today, it seemed, no possibility of sightseeing if the rain didn’t let up. Even if they stopped to stretch their legs, everything would just be wet and muddy, and he wasn’t risking his camera for that aesthetic.

“Not a parade,” Gladio chimed in from the back seat. He had a book up in front of his face, but of course he was paying attention. “Too much risk of exposure in an uncontrolled environment to have anybody outside the vehicles, but the motorcade route is gonna draw crowds, way bigger than we saw back there.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, ostensibly in the direction of Galdin Quay.

“Indeed,” Ignis said drawing Prompto’s gaze back to him. “And I highly doubt a little rain will keep the excited masses at bay.”

Noct grunted in the back seat. “This whole spectacle was too much. We have airships of our own, now. We coulda flown the queen in from Tenebrae.”

“Spectacle is important, when it’s called for,” Ignis argued smoothly. “Try not to mope too much, Your Highness. We have a long week ahead of us.”

Ignis realized Prompto was watching him, then, and gave him a wink. Prompto snorted, and reached a hand over to rest innocently on his boyfriend’s knee. A long week ahead, indeed. And, hopefully, a long stretch of peace and quiet afterward, one that Prompto and Ignis would be able to enjoy together.

 

x

 

The rain, unfortunately, continued throughout the day. At times the downpour was so heavy that they could barely see the leading SUV in front of them, and Ignis muttered to himself that they really ought to stop and wait the storm out.

For his part, Prompto eventually decided that he didn’t mind the rain so much, as long as he wasn’t stuck outside in it. The pounding patter on the roof was soothing, and before long he was nodding off. It was the excitement of the trip, he knew, that weighed down his eyelids. Meeting Luna, dealing with his anxiety all morning, the long periods of travel and a disrupted night of sleep; it all took its toll. Now that they were stuck in a car with no chance of getting out to stretch their legs, his brain insisted on a nap.

For a while he tried to fend off the urge to shut his eyes by playing a few rounds of King’s Knight on his phone with Noct. Gladio even joined in for a while, but then Noct started yawning widely and insisting that he could barely keep his eyes open. Prompto tried to keep himself occupied on the internet for a while, tried watching the landscape roll by outside, tried smacking his cheeks to banish the sleepy fog that threatened to overtake him. He was a Crownsguard, and he was on duty. Falling asleep on duty was a pretty big no-no, which was something he hadn’t needed the Crownsguard Code of Conduct to figure out but was written in there anyway.

“You can go to sleep if you want, Prompto,” Ignis told him sometime after a short noontime break. Only Ignis had gotten out of the car to stretch, and then they’d all eaten sandwiches for lunch. Eating had, of course, made Prompto doubly tired.

“But I’m—,” Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by a creaking yawn that was probably pretty comical to witness. Ignis was smirking at him as he settled back in his seat and finally gave in to the urge to shut his eyes. If Iggy insisted, then it was probably a good idea to catch a few Z’s while he could.

After a long period of dozing off and on, a hand on his shoulder shook him slowly awake. Prompto groaned and sat up straight in his seat, stretching until his joints popped. Outside of the car the grey, stormy light was beginning to darken—it was nearly nightfall then. Next to him, Ignis was looking rather run down himself, but he offered Prompto a tired smile.

“You wanna switch?” Prompto asked, yawning into a fist as he fought off the post-nap muzziness. When he glanced into the back seat, both Noct and Gladio had their eyes closed. He couldn’t be sure that Gladio was actually sleeping, but Noct’s eyelids fluttered as if he were dreaming.

“That shouldn’t be necessary. We’re nearly home,” Ignis said, drawing Prompto’s attention back to him. “Though I can’t say how long it will take us to get through the city.”

Again, Prompto thought to offer to change places. They could easily switch when they got to the checkpoint at the bridge, but then he thought that Ignis would probably want to be in control once they were back in Insomnia. Prompto would just get nervous having to drive down a street lined with probably thousands of spectators hoping to catch a glimpse of the Oracle Queen.

“You sure?” he ventured anyway. Ignis deserved a break as much as any of them, if not more so.

“That’s quite all right, darling,” Ignis said. “I should think the marshal would want someone more experienced at the wheel, in the event of an emergency.”

That was what Prompto had figured. Maybe sometime in the next few weeks he could ask about getting some advanced driver training, or whatever they called it.  _ If  _ there was even time for that once he began studying for the engineering training coursework, on top of his other Crownsguard duties.

“Good thing we haven’t run into any flooding, or else we’d be stuck out here all night,” Gladio said as he leaned between the front seats, squinting past the rapid motion of the windshield wipers. Before them was the long stretch of road that ended at the checkpoint before the bridge into the city. The blacktop shimmered under the continuing deluge, the desert landscape around them transformed to a reddish expanse of mud, water pooling on top of the hard-packed earth in some places.

“Where would we even stay if that happened? In a motel?” Prompto asked. The idea of the Queen of Tenebrae staying at a motel was absurd, and Prompto was sure that her guard detail would absolutely hate it.

“See that?” Gladio asked, reaching across Prompto to point out the passenger side window. Prompto stared out at the drenched landscape, trying to figure out what Gladio was pointing to. Then he spotted something—there was a dim glimmer of bluish light in the distance, closer to the distant cliffs than to the road. The faint glow was something that wouldn’t be visible in the bright light of day, but now that he knew what to look for it was hard to miss.

“Is that one of those safe campgrounds that keeps daemons away?” he asked, wishing he could get a closer look. That was something that would make an interesting addition to his portfolio, if it weren’t raining and he could convince Iggy to pull over.

“Yup,” Gladio said. “Sanctified by an Oracle. If worse came to worst, we could camp out there.”

“I doubt our entire entourage would be able to fit on such a small plateau,” Ignis said in that slow, sarcastic drawl of his that made Prompto want to kiss him senseless.

“Yeah, well,  _ you _ can sleep in the car,” Gladio said dismissively as he dropped back into his seat. Then there was a light smacking sound, and Prompto heard him say, “Hey, wake up Charmless. We’re almost home.”

He could see Noct grimace in the rearview mirror as he sat up and squinted through the window. “Time’sit?” he slurred, rubbing at his eyes.

“Seven forty-seven,” Ignis said. “We should reach the checkpoint before full dark.” He looked worried, though. Their headlights were already on, cutting through the drizzling rain, highlighting the bumper of the SUV in front of them. Maybe the cloud cover had Ignis worried that it would be dark enough for daemons to come out early. A chill ran up Prompto’s spine as he studied the grim tableau outside of the Regalia.

“It’ll be fine though, right?” Prompto said. “Nyx--er, that Glaive I was talking to, he said that daemons aren’t as common as they used to be.”

“No, not as common,” Ignis agreed. “But it would only take one of the larger ones to completely derail our progress.”

“Relax, Specs,” Noct said through a yawn. He leaned forward against the back of Ignis’ seat, eyes closed, and patted Ignis’ shoulder in a sleepy gesture of comfort. “S’gonna be fine.”

“Such confidence you inspire, Highness,” Ignis said, but he was smiling in spite of his dry tone.

As Noct predicted, they arrived at the checkpoint not ten minutes later without seeing hide nor hair of any daemons. Prompto was just the teensiest, tiniest bit disappointed by that, but mostly he was grateful that he hadn’t had to fight any daemons in the rain. His mom had been worried enough about him leaving Insomnia—she might just lock him in his room forever if he got home and told her their convoy had been attacked by daemons.

Making it back through the checkpoint took longer than expected. There were city guards mixed with Glaives, and a few people had K-9’s on leashes. The dogs looked like they meant business in their shiny protective vests, noses in the air as they were walked up and down the line of vehicles to sniff for anything dangerous. Prompto began to feel anxious again by the prospect of a bomb or something being secreted away on one of the the cars in spite of the watchful eye of the Glaives and Crownsguard.

“We’re fine,” Ignis said beside him, holding out a hand for Prompto to take. “It’s just a precaution, and the Tenebraens won’t take offense.” Prompto hoped that was true. Those queensguards seemed pretty stuffy to him, but they probably appreciated strict adherence to protocol.

Night had fallen completely by the time they passed back through the wall. Prompto was thoroughly tired of sitting in the Regalia by then, and he’d already done plenty of squirming to try to bring relief to his stiff legs and back. He fought back a groan when the Regalia turned onto a wide avenue and saw that the sidewalks were packed with people. Many held umbrellas, though some had forgone any protection from the rain so that they could wave signs in the air or let children sit on their shoulders.

“Every guard in the city must be out here,” Prompto said, watching the black-uniformed figures patrol up and down the excited lines of people. All that held the citizens of Insomnia from swarming the road were waist-high partitions made of wood and caution tape, and the presence of the guardsmen.

The press of humanity didn’t let up as the convoy rolled further into the city, but luckily, none of the civilians seemed keen to jump over the barriers. Insomnia was so massive that Prompto knew there must have been hundreds of thousands of people watching the cars roll by, hoping for a glimpse of royalty. All the millions of citizens in the city couldn’t have fit along the route they took, but from the news crews he spotted he knew that people must also be watching at home, maybe some were even crowded around the upper-floor windows in the buildings they passed. Were the onlookers and viewers disappointed, he wondered, that all they could see were shiny black cars?

None of the vehicles really slowed down, moving exactly at the speed limit as Cor had insisted. They had a guard escort now, patrol cars and motorcycles with flashing lights rolling alongside and ahead of the convoy for added protection. All of the drivers ignored traffic lights and signs—no other cars were allowed on their route, so there was no need to—and within the hour, after many turns, the Citadel rose before them.

“Thank every one of the Six,” Noct groaned. He’d been so quiet since they’d crossed back into the city that Prompto had thought he’d gone back to sleep. “My butt has been numb for like four hours.”

“Charming,” Ignis sighed. Now more than ever he looked like he needed to be tucked into bed, and Prompto would have been all too happy to do that for his boyfriend.  _ As long as I get to tuck myself in next to him. _ In spite of his earlier nap, Prompto’s eyes were gritty and his body cried out for the comfort of an actual bed, fatigue making him feel sluggish.

When they rolled into the grand plaza before the Citadel they were greeted by even more cheering throngs. There was a cleared area in front of the stairs, and the convoy slowed and began to turn until the vehicles were parallel with the steps. Prompto was glad that he was on the side of the car facing away from the crowds, because he knew he climbing out of the car would have him stooping and grimacing as his body protested being made to stand up straight.

There was a lot of ceremony involved in the arrival of foreign dignitaries, ceremony that Prompto would have been more excited by if he wasn’t fighting to keep his eyes open. Lights had been set up around the plaza, the tall, stadium style kind that made it bright as day outside even as it continued to drizzle. They all had to sit in the cars for what felt like ages until they were given an all clear signal, and then they were finally piling out of the Regalia. Prompto supposed that valets were going to come collect the vehicles at some point, but he was just glad to be out of the car. As predicted, his body didn’t want to move, but somehow he managed not to stumble into anyone. Thankfully, it the rain had tapered off by then, but a swirling mist hung in the air that dampened everything it touched.

From there, everything passed in a bit of a blur. The three of them had to fall into position around Noct, and Prompto felt slightly more awake out in the cool humidity of the night. Together with the queen’s delegation, they climbed the steps, pausing halfway up so the royals could stop, turning to smile and wave for the cameras and the crowd.

Prompto felt his skin prickle at the thought of being on TV, even just peripherally. He could imagine his parents recording the event with the DVR he’d set up for them, the two of them pointing excitedly to the screen wherever they were at that moment whenever he appeared. He was glad that they had finally gotten on board with him joining the Crownsguard, even if they were going to brag about it like the pair of embarrassing dorks they were.

It seemed to take ages for the group to finally make its way inside, and there the delegation was greeted by rows of politicians and other members of the nobility, headed by the king and his council. The queen graciously addressed them all, though Prompto found it hard to absorb most of what she said. He was fighting off yawns every few minutes, trying not to let his shoulders sag or to lean against one of his friends. A hand on his back made him jump, but it was just Ignis checking on him, making sure he wasn’t about to teeter off to sleep right there in the entrance hall.

“...I look forward to the coming days, to working with His Majesty and the delegation from Niflheim on ensuring a peaceful future for our nations,” Sylva said, the closing line to her flowing introduction to the Lucian Court. King Regis stepped forward and clasped her hand, leaning in to whisper something for her ears only that produced a tinkling, queenly chuckle from Sylva. Prompto’s frazzled mind briefly entertained the vague and horrifying thought of the two regents carrying on some kind of secret relationship, and had to stifle a snort.  _ Noct would die. He’d be furious for five seconds, then he would warp-strike himself into outer space. _

“Where’s the Niflheim delegation?” Prompto murmured to Ignis, who was frowning at him now, wondering what had made Prompto choke back a laugh at a time like this.

“En route, I would think,” Ignis said back, voice equally low. “They’ll be arriving in the dead of night, once things have calmed down and the crowds have dispersed. Then tomorrow we’ll be back to pageantry as the conference begins.”

“Does that mean we can go to bed soon?” Noct said, unable to keep the groan of longing out of his voice.

Gladio gave the prince a look like he’d like to dunk Noct into the nearest garbage bin, but Ignis only nodded. “I hope so,” he said, sounding just as tired in that moment as Prompto felt.

Prompto opened his mouth to concur with Ignis, but all that came out was a squeak as he noticed Lunafreya making her way toward them. The atmosphere in the entrance hall had shifted somewhat. Regis and Sylva still had their heads together, joined now by Clarus Amicitia, and everyone but the Tenebraen honor guard had broken up into conversation.

“I hope this isn’t rude of me, but I would very much like to get some rest while I can,” Luna said as she approached them, Ravus looming behind her with a scowl. “Could you fine gentlemen show us to our quarters?”

There had to be servants assigned to do that kind of thing, but Prompto hoped that Noct would say yes. He himself still felt a little bit flustered when Luna looked over and flashed him the tiniest smile. At some point that week he wanted to be able to look at her without blushing to his roots and feeling like a shy little boy. Thankfully, Pryna danced up to him, butting her head into his hand and giving him an excuse to look away from the princess.

To his relief, Luna’s request gave all of them an excellent excuse to leave the grand entrance and make their way up to the guest quarters where the Tenebraens would be staying. Servants had indeed already been at work, moving luggage from the SUVs into bedrooms so that by the time they arrived there were trunks and suitcases already waiting just inside the door to the guest apartments reserved for the Oracle’s family.

“Oh, how lovely,” Luna sighed. “I can’t wait to take a bath and crawl into bed.”

“It’s a bit grim,” Ravus muttered, “Everything is black.” Then his face scrunched up just the slightest bit, and Prompto had to put his hand over his mouth to hide a smile—Luna had very purposely and subtly stepped on her brother’s foot with the sharp heel of her daintily embroidered shoe. Prompto had only noticed because he’d already been looking at the floor where the two dogs were studiously sniffing, investigating their new surroundings.

Smiling, the picture of diplomacy and grace, Luna came over to them and clasped Noct’s hands. “I really am so glad to be here, Noctis. I hope we can have a moment to catch up tomorrow, but right now I’m afraid I’m too weary from the road.”

“Same,” Prompto said through a yawn, wincing when he felt somebody—Gladio—reach up and give his ear a sharp flick. But Prompto could see that Noct was looking flustered having them all there while Luna was bidding him goodnight, like the prince didn’t know whether to respond or just turn and run away.

“I, ah, hope so too, Luna,” he said, now that everyone’s attention was no longer on him. He seemed less sure of himself without the pressure of the cameras and all the courtiers and diplomats hovering around. Now he was reverting from Prince Noctis of Lucis back to regular Noct, the shy nerd who liked fries and video games and was deathly afraid of intimacy.

They left the Princess and Prince of Tenebrae then, and boy did it feel weird to Prompto to think of them in that way. Most of the time he sort of forgot that Noct was a prince. Like, he knew Noct was royalty, but his best friend barely acted like it around him except in certain jarring instances. Being in the presence of even more royalty sure was something else, and he had to bite back a surge of giddiness. The whole scenario felt extremely bizzare in that moment, now that the thought had occured to him.  _ How is this even my life right now? Who did I trick into letting me hang out with royalty? _

It took a sharp shake of the head to refocus his tired brain. He knew exactly how he’d wound up here and he’d never stop being grateful for it, no matter how weird his life got.

As soon as they were around the corner, out of sight of the guest quarters, Prompto slung an arm around Noct and felt his best friend sag his shoulders as he groaned. “That was so awkward,” Noct said, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Prompto said, “You just got nervous. I bet she barely noticed.”

“I’m all sweaty now,” Noct muttered. “How am I going to talk to her by myself?”

“Just do what I told you to do and you’ll be fine. I mean, you guys have known each other forever and she obviously isn’t repulsed by you,” Prompto said, giving Noct a teasing shake. Dropping his voice, he leaned in close to Noct’s ear. “Just look at me and Iggy. We danced around each other for months and now we can’t keep our hands off each other, because we sat and talked it out.” Noct gave him an unexpectedly dirty look at that and abruptly pulled away from him, unbalancing Prompto for the next few steps.

“That’s not what I—,” Noct began, then faltered. “Forget it.”

“What?” Prompto asked, perplexed, as Noct put his hackles up, lips pressed thin as he stalked ahead of them without another word.

Prompto tossed a helpless look over his shoulder at Ignis. Looking decidedly calm, Ignis strode up and put a hand between Prompto’s shoulder blades. “I think we’re all in need of a good night’s rest,” he said diplomatically. The unspoken, “Drop the subject for now,” was heavily implied.

Worried now, Prompto leaned into Ignis, putting an arm around his waist as they kept pace behind Noct. Had he crossed a line, talking about Ignis like that? Maybe Noct didn’t want to hear about his best friend and the guy who was practically his brother going at it like horny little bunnies.  _ Way to put your foot in your mouth, Argentum. _

_ He’s limping, _ Prompto thought after watching Noct for a minute. After all those hours in the car with no chance to stretch he wasn’t surprised to see the hitch in Noct’s gait, though it was subtle. Enough so that anyone who didn’t know the prince well wouldn’t notice it. Ignis’ expression was sharp when Prompto glanced up at him, so he knew that his boyfriend had also noticed what Noct was obviously trying to hide.

At the door to his royal suite, Noct bade them all a mumbled goodnight without really looking at any of them. Once the door was shut behind him, Prompto watched as Ignis and Gladio exchanged pointed looks with the two Crownsguard posted to guard the prince’s room.

“Do not disturb His Highness unless there is an emergency, or His Majesty requests the prince’s presence,” Ignis said, the words carrying the commanding tones of an order.

“Yes, sir,” both of the other Crownsguard said in unison, snapping off salutes for the Shield and the royal advisor. Prompto recognized one of the guards as someone who’d hassled him in the past over his ID badge, but the man didn’t deign to acknowledge him now.  _ Too busy kissing ass now, which is fine by me. _

“We should be abed,” Ignis said after they had moved down the hall, a few doors away from Noct’s rooms.

“Yep, I’m beat,” Gladio grumbled, stretching his arms high over his head, “Just remember, no sleeping in. We’re all lethargic from sitting in a car all day. We’ll feel better tomorrow night if we keep busy all day.”

“Does that mean you’re volunteering to wake Noctis up tomorrow?” Ignis asked smoothly.

Gladio gave him a wicked grin, eyes lighting up with some devious plan. “I’ll get Chuckles out of bed in the morning, don’t you worry.”

They watched him stride off down the hall, Prompto hoping that he and Ignis would be spared from being woken up early by Gladio as well. Sometimes when the Shield thought they were slacking he got them all up extra early to go for a run, usually when it was still dark out and even the birds hadn’t yet roused from their nests. Even Prompto didn’t get up that early to go jogging, because being awake and functional before even the sun was awake was  _ obscene. _

Prompto closed his eyes as he walked beside Ignis, still leaning against the man. He let himself be guided, trusting that Ignis would keep him from walking into a wall or tripping over anything expensive. When they finally reached Ignis’ rooms and Prompto managed to pry his eyes open again, Ignis’ big, comfy bed was a welcome sight. But Prompto wasn’t quite ready to sleep. His body and mind were exhausted, but he remembered the quiet promise he’d made to himself earlier that day.

He felt Ignis pulling away from him and turned to face his boyfriend, both arms sliding into place around Ignis’ waist. There was the slightest smile on the corners of Ignis’ lips, the expression weary but affectionate. On impulse, Prompto tilted his face upwards and pressed a kiss to those lips, and he felt them yield against him. Ignis’ return kiss was tempered, sweet and lightning hot but gentle. They were both too tired for anything more impassioned than the slow shifting pressure of their lips.

Hands rested on Prompto’s hips, and he whined when Ignis’ fingers squeezed him there. That was as far as it went, though. A moment later, Ignis was pulling back. Prompto opened his eyes, which had drifted shut again at some point, and he opened his mouth, too. The look on Ignis’ face was...focused. Warm and quietly intense.

“We should get ready for bed,” Ignis said softly, looking regretful.

“I…,” Prompto said. Ignis stepped back, freeing himself from Prompto’s grasp.

“Go on,” he said, giving Prompto a smile and a knowing look. “We’ll never get out of bed in the morning if we can’t keep our hands to ourselves now.”

Prompto opened his mouth again to protest, but Ignis made a little shooing motion toward the bathroom door. Thrown off, Prompto did as he was told. He went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he came back out, Ignis was nearly finished undressing. He folded his uniform neatly and set the pile on top of his dresser as Prompto sat on the edge of the bed and began tugging off his boots.

Frustrated, but not for the reasons Ignis suspected, Prompto watched his boyfriend head into the bathroom for his turn. Why couldn’t he just  _ say _ it? This time he was really going to do it,  _ I love you _ had been on the tip of his tongue, but he’d been cut off. Honestly, Prompto knew he could be a real horny little goblin at times, so he couldn’t blame Ignis for thinking he’d just wanted to fuck. Was the moment ruined now? Maybe he could salvage it. He could cuddle up next to Ignis in bed and kiss him goodnight and he could say it then. It wouldn’t be awkward, he wouldn’t be blurting it out like an idiot...but what if—

No. He was going to do it. It would be sweet, simple, and honest, something understated and profound rather than a grand announcement. Seated on the edge of the mattress, he finished pulling off his uniform, and stared down at the pile of clothing he’d just made next to the bed. He should get up, fold his things like Ignis had done instead of leaving it all in a heap.  _ Iggy is probably gonna send for our stuff to get washed overnight so it’ll be fresh in the morning. _ That seemed like something Ignis would do. He was always thinking ahead.

Yawning, Prompto leaned back on an elbow. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the sink running in the bathroom.  _ I love him, _ he thought as he reclined as he waited patiently for Ignis to join him.

 

x

 

The next thing Prompto knew, he was blinking his eyes open to the sight of Ignis stepping out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. Had Ignis decided to take a shower, too, before coming to bed?

With a sleepy grumble, Prompto sat up in confusion, rubbing crust from his eyes as the comforter fell away from his bare shoulders. Ugh, he’d fallen asleep in just his chocobo boxers, and he hadn’t even picked his clothes up off—

“What time is it?” he asked with a sinking feeling.

“Six thirty, bright and early,” a gruff voice said from the bedroom doorway as Gladio stuck his head into the room.

“Gladiolus!” Ignis squawked, indignantly clutching at the towel tucked around his hips as his face blazed red. “Get out of my bedroom!”

Gladio rolled his eyes and pulled back. “Sorry to upset your delicate sensibilities,” he called as Ignis stalked over and slammed the door shut. “Tell Blondie to get his ass in gear!”

“Honestly,” Ignis muttered, looking utterly scandalized as he turned to face Prompto. “One would think he was raised in a barn.”

Normally, Prompto would have teased his boyfriend or laughed at his prudish reaction at being seen half-naked, but he was still recovering from his own shock. _ It’s morning. I fell asleep. I can’t believe I fell asleep!  _ Dismayed, he checked the bedside clock just to be sure, sitting up completely and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress.

“Up with you,” Ignis said to Prompto, finally dropping the towel with a sigh. His Crownsguard uniform was displayed on a hanger on the closet door, looking freshly pressed. Prompto could see his own uniform hanging beneath Ignis’. He’d been right about that, at least; Ignis had sent their things to be cleaned by the palace’s overnight staff.

“Sorry I conked out on you last night,” Prompto said, sheepish. He was silently berating himself even as he resolutely stood up and moved toward the bathroom. Now he was going to have to wait an entire day  _ again _ . The mood definitely wasn’t right, not with Gladio lurking out in the sitting area and Ignis focused on getting ready for the day.

“That’s quite all right. You were exhausted,” Ignis said, his tone understanding. Maybe  _ too  _ understanding. Ignis had to have been more tired than Prompto after driving all day, but he’d stayed up long enough to have their clothing sent off for laundering. On top of that, he’d woken up early to begin getting ready, and it was  _ so Ignis _ , but also so unfair.

Prompto took a moment to pout at Ignis’ finely sculpted ass as his boyfriend pulled on a pair of grey briefs, then with a sigh he skulked into the bathroom for a shower.

Already, he could tell that it was going to be another exhausting day. As he shampooed he ran through what he could remember of the itinerary; they’d have to meet with the Niflheim delegation in the throne room, and according to Gladio the ceremony was all going to be very boring and formal. Then there were press conferences that were supposed to take up the rest of the morning, and after that there would be a break for lunch. Sylva, Regis, and whoever from Niflheim would dine together with the council, but everyone else would meet for a more casual luncheon.

Prompto was glad for that. By noontime he was sure Noct would be hurting for some relative peace and quiet away from the Nifs, not to mention the media and all the attention that he was always trying to avoid.

After lunch, he thought they were supposed to give a tour of the Citadel to the visiting delegates, which felt kinda like showing off considering Niflheim got wrecked toward the end of the war. Then, that night there was going to be a fancy state dinner and all the Important People in Insomnia were going to be there. Noct always gave Prompto the impression that these lavish government functions were tedious and frustrating. Secretly, Prompto was looking forward to it, though he doubted it would live up to the Disney-esque vision he had in his mind. Seeing as he would still be on duty, he probably wasn’t going to be allowed to mingle or drink fancy booze.  _ I’m probably better off not talking to any fancy-shmancy people, anyway. _

Ignis was serving breakfast when Prompto finally emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready for the day. A very disgruntled Noct was sitting hunched over on Ignis’ sofa, evidence that Gladio had indeed dragged the prince out of bed that morning.

“Hey buddy!” Prompto greeted him brightly. Noct only grunted in response and continued to glare sulkily at his boots. Prompto opened his mouth to say something cheerful, only for Ignis’ light touch on his arm to stop him.

“Come and eat, my darling,” he said warmly, though his look was pointed.  _ Don’t pull the cat’s tail  _ said that look, the cat being Noct in Prompto’s mental analogy. “We’ve another lengthy and exhausting day ahead of us, I fear,” Ignis continued.

“Oh, goody,” Prompto sighed, swinging his arms as he allowed Ignis to guide him toward the dining table.

“Won’t be so bad, as long as nobody starts trouble,” Gladio said, tone casual as he sipped coffee in the kitchenette, though his gaze flickered toward Noct’s back.

“I’m sure everything will go smoothly,” Ignis said, “It had better, after all the effort that I, and everyone else involved, put into planning this conference.”

“You’re awesome, so the conference will be awesome, babe,” Prompto proclaimed, leaning up to kiss Ignis on the cheek before dropping into dining chair.

“Let’s hope so,” Ignis replied, looking pleased and slightly pink. Despite his own positivity, Prompto couldn’t help but worry about Noct’s mood in the back of his mind. Today was the day the prince would have to welcome the Nifs to Lucis, and he knew how Noct felt about that.

Well, Prompto would be there, and so would Gladio and Iggy, a bolstering force that would stand behind Noct, both to support him and to make sure he wasn’t the one putting his foot in his mouth this time around.

Prompto’s confidence in Ignis’ event-planning abilities remained unshaken, but he knew that at the very least, today was going to be a trial for all of them.

 

x

 

Lady Lunafreya greeted the four of them with a beatific smile as they arrived at the doors to the throne room. The princess wore a long white dressed tooled with silver, her hair tied up in elaborate braids. Her warm expression made it easy to ignore the way Ravus hulked dourly beside her, backed by several equally stern-faced members of the queen’s royal guard.

“Good morning, Lady Lunafreya, Lord Ravus,” Ignis greeted with polite cheer, and was quickly mimicked by the other three men.

“Good morning,” Luna replied, followed by a stiff nod of acknowledgement from her brother. Then, “Noctis, did you sleep well?” Luna asked, her mouth turning down in concern. Prompto realized with a start that Noct was looking somewhat grey, worse even than he’d looked in Ignis’ apartments, but the prince managed to smile.

“It was a late night. I’ll be fine, though,” Noct said, straightening his back and making an effort to smile. Then he nodded toward the door. “Is my father already inside?”

“Oh, yes,” Luna said, looking unconvinced even as her benign expression slipped back into place, “We’re waiting for our mother, but you ought to go in. The welcoming ceremony should be starting shortly.”

For a split second Noct hesitated, stalling almost unnoticeably in front of Luna before turning and hustling through the throne room doors. The rest of them started after him a beat later, and Prompto offered Luna a smile of his own to try and cover up the awkwardness of the brief encounter. He didn’t quite understand what was happening with Noct, and it frustrated him that he wouldn’t be able to get his friend alone anytime soon to ask.

Maybe it really was just the fact that Noct was unhappy about having to welcome Niflheim to Insomnia. More than unhappy, if his grim mood was any indication. Prompto felt something twinge in his chest as he tried to imagine it—all of Noct’s interactions with Niflheim had been violent, and he’d only been a child when they had ambushed him and his royal escort, nearly killed him. And again, when Niflheim had tried to invade Tenebrae, he’d still been recovering. To a small child, being attacked by daemons and magitek infantry must have been terrifying. Hell, just thinking about it made Prompto’s insides feel watery.

Had they been alone, away from prying eyes and ears, Prompto would have hugged Noct right then and there, whether the prince liked it or not. As it was, Prompto couldn’t help reaching up to give Noct’s shoulder a bolstering squeeze, letting his hand linger there until Noct blew out a long, tense breath.

“I’m fine, Prom,” he muttered, but this time his smile was less forced.

From the corner of his eye, Prompto caught Ignis smiling too, looking relieved. As they strode down the long hall of the throne room, Prompto felt his boyfriend’s hand come to rest lightly on his back. He was beginning to think of that familiar touch as a form of silent and affectionate communication.  _ I’m here, _ Ignis was telling him,  _ all is well.  _ That gesture was more comforting than Ignis probably realized.  _ A shame I can’t tongue-kiss my boyfriend in front of the king,  _ Prompto thought wisftully.

“Ah, welcome, my son,” Regis’ voice echoed through the vast, empty room as they drew closer to the throne. The king stood at the top of the high dais in front of his throne, where he’d been speaking quietly with Lord Amicitia. All noises echoed in the throne room, but their words were pitched low enough to be no more than murmurs.

“Good morning, Father,” Noct said. The four of them paused and bowed to the king, then ascended the stairs up to the dais. During the ceremony Noct would stand beside his father’s throne, Ignis would stand to Noct’s left one step below the top of the dais, then Gladio on the next step, then Prompto, and then a few glaives would stand below him. Clarus would stand to the king’s right, and then Drautos, the marshal, Monica, and again, a few glaives.

There was supposed to be some special significance to the order and position of each person. Prompto couldn’t quite believe that he would be standing up there alongside the most powerful people in Lucis. He felt a knot of anxiety go taut in his belly as Ignis quietly turned on the marble steps to remind him that he would need to be still and to remain alert. There were already a dozen or so glaives positioned around the room, and probably more that Prompto couldn’t see.  _ I bet none of them need reminders on how to behave, _ he thought with a mental pout.

Cor had had the recruits do sentry drills during training, although “drill” made it sound a lot more exciting than having to stand at attention for hours without moving actually was. Prompto had hated those drills more than anything else; the boredom, having to fight not to space out, having to keep from bouncing his legs, and tamping down the urge to hum or whistle to himself under the watchful eye of Dustin. At least today he’d have something to focus on other than a blank wall in the training facility.

“Are we ready, Clarus?” the king asked as he settled onto his throne. Noct stood beside him, arms folded over his chest, but the prince stood up straight and let his arms drop as Clarus nodded.

“Yes, your majesty. Shall I?”

“Please,” Regis said, settling his cane within easy reach. Clarus raised a hand and made a simple gesture in the air. At the far end of the hall, a servant in palace garb moved to the door and said something that Prompto couldn’t make out. They were starting then. Prompto squared his shoulders and tried to will his body not to break out into a cold sweat.

As far as formal ceremonies went, the arrival and official welcoming of the Tenebraens and the Nifs was interesting, at least at the beginning. Prompto kept his back straight as people began filing into the room, speaking in a rumbling wave of voices and filling the alcoves where they would watch the proceedings. His hands were behind his back—conveniently out of sight—and he fidgeted absentmindedly with the catch on his gloves, eyes roving over the gathering spectators. People-watching was something he’d always found himself doing unconsciously, sometimes to his own embarrassment. He thought it had something to do with his photographer’s eye, which was an unexpectedly helpful skill in his Crownsguard career.

At least he didn’t have to worry about catching the stink eye from anybody as he took in the expensive outfits and the carefully neutral or openly disdainful expressions of the nobility and various other politicians and rich people. The cool, unfiltered lighting in the grand chamber would have been perfect for a shoot, but no cameras were allowed in the throne room.

Nothing overtly suspicious caught his eye, which helped some of his tension ease away. It wasn’t as though there were no other security precautions in place—all of these people had gone through metal detectors and were actively scanned for magic or any kind of advanced tech well before they reached the throne room. Prompto knew he was basically superfluous as a guard on the best of days, but once again it was reassuring to know that the likelihood of something terrible happening was close to zero.

Music began to play, the notes grand and vaguely familiar. He thought it might have been the Tenebraen national anthem, and was mildly embarrassed that he didn’t know for certain. In any case, everyone in the room came to attention, the crowds automatically shushing themselves and turning toward the doors. A moment later, Queen Sylva’s guards strode through the doorway at the far end of the room in ranks of two, heading up the Tenebraen procession. On their heal was the queen herself in a gown that was an equal in resplendence to the one she’d worn the day before. Lunafreya and Ravus, walked arm-in-arm behind their mother, followed closely by several more guards. They were certainly a sight to behold, glittering white, gold and silver against the black architecture of the room.

Prompto managed to pay attention without too much difficulty after that. Sylva was radiant in her full queenly regalia, looking every inch the Oracle that she was. It was probably his imagination, but everything felt just a bit more serene and sparkly with the combined presence of Sylva and Luna in the same room.

As the procession reached the foot of the dais the ranks of guards slowed and split apart, allowing the queen to stride between them. King Regis stood as the queen approached his throne and he offered her a formal nod as her equal in rank. “It is my honor as King to welcome you, Queen Sylva Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae, and your household. Allow me to extend the hospitality of Lucis to you and yours.”

“My thanks, Your Majesty. You have my gratitude, and I accept your hospitality.”

It was the same sort of delicately performed back and forth that they had seen the night before, but longer. A  _ lot _ longer. Not boring, exactly, but Prompto felt like he was stuck watching one of those period dramas that his mom loved. This time, Regis greeted each member of the Oracle’s family, and then Noct did as well, and then finally after, like, half-an-hour of saying hello, it was finally time for the delegation from Niflheim to enter the hall.

_ I hope they don’t have to reintroduce everyone a second time, _ Prompto thought as he twisted one of his wrist-cuffs behind his back. He was getting antsy. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he could hold Ignis’ hand or if he didn’t have to stand so still. There were subtle stretching exercises he could do to keep his muscles from stiffening, but that was about all the mobility he was allowed. Nobody would know what he was doing unless they were looking for it—allegedly—and he was one-hundred and six percent sure that nobody was paying any attention to him.

Once more, music filled the room, an oddly subdued tune this time around. Prompto didn’t think he’d ever heard the national anthem of Niflheim before. It was a melancholy sound, almost more of a lament or a dirge than an anthem.

Then the procession entered the room. Prompto straightened as inconspicuously as he could as he watched the Nifs make their way toward the throne. They were a solemn bunch to match their anthem, dressed in white and black formal attire with accents of red and gold. At their head was an old man, older than Regis, followed by a collection of similarly aged individuals. Only a few of them looked to be below grandparent age, but they were all somewhat dour. Even the youngest amongst them—a woman with silvery hair who wore glittering black armor—looked around the room with a piercing gaze, as though all of the pomp and ceremony was beneath her.

Their journey from the door to the base of the dais seemed to last an absurdly long time. Prompto wasn’t sure if they’d actually been walking very slowly or if the grim music just made it seem that way. When the old man at the head of the procession finally stood beneath the throne and the anthem faded to a stop, Regis offered him the same nod he’d given the Oracle.

“Lord Councilor Besithia,” he said, “It has been many long years since we last met. Be welcome in these halls, and please accept the hospitality of Lucis.”

“Many thanks, King Regis,” the old man—Besithia—stated in a gravelly, grandpa-esque voice. “The Interim Council accepts your hospitality, and offer our gratitude.”

_What a crunchy old dude,_ Prompto thought. Probably not an appropriate thought to have at the moment, but Prompto was pretty sure that nobody in the room could read his mind.

From what Prompto understood of Niflheim, after their emperor was deposed and the war was ended, the allied forces of Tenebrae and Lucis had overseen the establishment of a ruling council. A few high-ranking members of the Niflheim government had been secretly working against the empire, and they had been chosen to lead the country during the reconstruction. No other ruling party had been chosen since then, although Niflheim was now basically back to how things had been before their emperor went power-mad.

Besithia’s name was familiar, but Prompto honestly couldn’t tell one of these old politicians apart from the next. The lord councilor was kind of stooped and wrinkly, liverspotted, sporting a finely trimmed grey beard and combed back hair. Even as he traded formalities with the king he looked like he was fending off a scowl. All in all, Besithia and the rest of the councillors radiated a pretty intimidating aura that made Prompto hope that he wouldn’t be expected to talk to any of them.

_ I’m just a lowly bodyguard. No reason to pay any attention to me. _

Prompto jolted as the music started back up and heat rushed to his cheeks as he realized he’d spaced out completely. And of course it was the Lucian national anthem playing this time, and of course Prompto had broken his composure, if only for a few seconds. Ignis would have noticed, because Ignis noticed everything, but Prompto didn’t think anybody else had. Quickly, he turned his gaze back to the Niflheim delegation and found himself meeting the gaze of that scary-hot woman in black armor. She was looking directly at him, a frown between her brows, but when their eyes met he could have sworn that she gave him the tiniest smirk.

_ Well, fuck.  _ She looked like she could snap him in half between her thighs, which Prompto might have actually been into if he wasn’t in a serious, committed relationship. Very pointedly, he tore his attention away from her and focused on the king.

“Once again, allow me to extend the hospitality of Lucis to all of our honored guests. May our allies of Tenebrae and of Niflheim feel welcome within these halls. We go now to assemble at the grand entrance to address the public as a united front, for true peace can only be achieved by the unified efforts of our distinct, sovereign nations.”

King Regis’ presence was as commanding and reassuring as ever, regardless of any other perceived frailties. As an orator he was skilled, drawing people in with his words and making sure that everyone believed whatever he said. Well,  _ mostly _ everyone. Prompto knew that Noct was nervous about having to take up that task in his father’s stead someday, but the confidence would come when he needed it.

Slowly, the crowds began to trickle out of the throne room. There had been some deliberation on where to hold the press conference—it would have been simpler, in a way, to simply film everything that was happening in the throne room rather than having to shuffle everyone around. The Crownsguard had nixed the idea of allowing the press into the Citadel, though; there were simply too many moving pieces on the board to keep track of for them to add a bunch of reporters to the mix.

With the addition of foreign dignitaries that would need the protection of the Crown, it had been decided that all media relations would be handled outside of the palace. Or, if necessary, by controlled video feed from secure locations within the Citadel. Prompto had even been asked if he had any experience with film, since he was already vetted by Citadel security.

Of course he did have some ability with video, sort of, but he didn’t know if he could play cameraman for an interview with someone like Queen Sylva. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, though. He could only imagine coming down with a case of the jitters so that everything he filmed had that annoying shaky camera effect.

The press conference itself would be another series of long speeches about peace and unity and moving forward while remembering and honoring the past. Important stuff, Prompto knew, but it was warm out, warmer still on the front steps of the Citadel with the sun beating down directly on the assembly. On top of that, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, teeming crowds had packed the square outside of the Citadel. The endless buzz of thousands of voices filled Prompto’s head, making it hard to focus even when someone was speaking directly into a microphone only a few feet away from him.

Sylva’s speaking voice was powerful and melodic, which helped drown out the ceaseless drone of the throngs. The queen spoke of walking on battlefields, tending to wounded soldiers. She spoke of healing young Prince Noctis of an injury that nearly ended his life, and training her daughter to carry on the gifts of the Oracle. She spoke of the day Niflheim had invaded Tenebrae, an invasion that was meant to be an ambush that would end in her death.

“It was Lord Besithia who gave us forewarning,” she said. “He came to us out of need and desperation, unable to tolerate the grasp of the Emperor’s iron fist any longer. With his aid, Lucis and Tenebrae were able to counter the assault and turn the empire back. That day was the beginning of the end of the war.”

Prompto found that it was hard to imagine scowling Lord Besithia being desperate about anything. The old man’s expression never faltered from a deeply furrowed scowl, not even once. Even Sylva gracing him with a radiant smile seemed to have no effect.

About an hour into the press conference, Prompto decided to switch his attention to watching rather than listening. Again, it was easier to let his gaze rove, picking out faces in the small mosh pit of reporters gathered immediately below where the speeches were being given. A podium had been set up on the landing, the wood elegantly carved, stained black and gilded with typical Lucian designs—stylized skulls and depictions of souls and the like. When he squinted beyond their immediate surroundings to get a look at the square, Prompto swore he could just make out the shimmer of a subtle magical barrier hanging between the royal families and the crowds below.

Cor and Lord Amicitia had suggested—or rather, insisted—on using a protective barrier during any contact with the public. Ignis had mentioned the idea to Prompto at some point during the preparations, stating that the council had argued back and forth about needing a magical shield during peace talks. What sort of message would it send, was the primary argument against it, but in the end it was decided that it the pragmatic thing to do. Regis had obviously acquiesced, though having to maintain a barrier for so long had to be taxing for the king.

_ Come on, pay attention, _ Prompto berated himself silently. They had to be almost done by now, right? On the itinerary the conference had been slated to last two hours with an extra half hour of wiggle room in the event of overtime. To Prompto, it felt like they’d been standing out there on the big old sweeping staircase for ages when Lord Besithia finally stepped forward. He’d been scheduled to speak last, or at least Prompto hoped that was the case. He was  _ so _ thirsty and there was stray hair that had been hanging in his eye driving him crazy for like, forty-five minutes now.

Besithia’s voice, when he stepped up to the microphone, was just as crunchy as it had been before, only now it was amplified a million-billion times by loudspeakers. Prompto’s heart stuttered slightly when he thought he picked out jeers from the audience as the old man began to speak, but Besithia didn’t seem to notice or care.

“I saw firsthand the cruelties and injustices doled out by the Empire,” he began, “And I am ashamed to say that I had a hand in what was allowed to occur—a forced hand in some ways, but it grieves me no less that I was involved. Had I stepped in sooner some of the atrocities might have been allayed or averted.

To some in Niflheim I am still considered a traitor. To some of you in Lucis, Tenebrae, and the rest of the world, I am still an arbiter behind the destruction wrought by the Empire. I do not deny either of these charges. I am a part of your pain. I betrayed the innocents of the world by allowing Iedolas Aldercapt to run wild. And I paid the price. I, too, lost much to the war. But, I too, am committed to peace now, no matter what demands I must fulfil to maintain it.”

His words didn’t carry quite the same amount of gravitas as Regis or Sylva’s had. Somehow he was cold and sincere all at once, as if he couldn’t be bothered to lie but didn’t care if anyone actually believed him. His speech didn’t even last half as long as the others had, and there was a tension about him that eased somewhat as he stepped brusquely away from the podium. Again, his expression remained the same, but he was clearly relieved to have gotten that part over with.

As soon as Besithia moved to stand with his delegation, the reporters began waving their arms and flapping notebooks in the air, shouting questions all at once. Clarus Amicitia stepped up to the podium, holding a hand out in a gesture for silence that was only half-effective.

Prompto didn’t realize that he’d begun to fidget with his bracelets as soon as the noise increased until he felt something brush his arm. He nearly jumped, then realized it was just Ignis leaning in close to murmur discreetly into his ear.

“We’re almost done,” he promised, face a neutral mask that was belied by the gentle reassurance in his tone. He could have been leaning in to murmur some official business in Prompto’s ear, for all his expression gave away.

It was an exercise in restraint not to reach for Ignis’ hand in that moment. Prompto was feeling antsier by the minute now, every cell in his body practically vibrating with the desire to move. It had been like, two or three days since he’d been able to go for a morning run and that pent up energy was demanding some kind of release. In spite of his exhaustion the previous day, Prompto felt like he could do another marathon run around the Citadel. He wasn’t bored, exactly, he was just...restless.  _ And, yeah, kinda bored too _ , he admitted silently and much to his own chagrin.

But finally, it was over—for a short while, anyway. Clarus declared that any additional questions could be saved for the days to come, and thanked the crowds of citizens for attending the press conference. With that done, the assembly had to turn and make their way sedately back into the palace. As soon as they were through the doors Prompto felt his boredom evaporate as he saw Noct sag. He was only a few steps behind the prince, so he immediately stepped forward to put a hand on Noct’s back, offering himself as a human crutch should Noct need it.

Standing stationary for hours at a time was bad for anybody’s back or feet—Prompto had known that before his Crownsguard training. For Noct it was worse, with his old injury. Even with the stretching exercises they’d all had to practice, his back must have been stiff and sore.

Feeling guilty for his own plaintive thoughts from only moments ago, Prompto watched Noct’s face for signs of pain, but the prince just looked tired and irritable. Noct still reached up to put a hand on Prompto’s shoulder, a flash of relief crossing his face.

“Glad that’s over with,” Noct muttered, then grimaced as he realized Ignis was right on their heels. Prompto suppressed a grin as Ignis sighed, but he didn’t say anything to admonish the prince. Noct had spoken softly enough that no one else should have heard his griping.

“Are you unwell, Noctis?”

Noct blanched slightly when he realized Lunafreya had also sidled up to them, and was watching him with a concerned frown.

“Uh,” he hedged, all princely airs abandoning him as he backpedaled, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just...need a break.”

Luna didn’t look convinced, and Prompto blushed as she turned her knowing gaze on him. “Oh, I’m quite sure.” Then, in a conspiratorial tone, she said to Prompto, “He was just as stubborn when we were children.”

Prompto found himself laughing—a genuine and surprised sound—as Noct flushed a hot pink color. Ignis’ hand came to rest on Prompto’s back as he chuckled at the remark, and Prompto realized that they were more or less alone now. Most of the large party had moved further into the Citadel, leaving only Ravus and two bodyguards to watch over Luna, and Gladio and his little sister, Iris. The regents were all going to have a fancy lunch meeting with the council, which meant the rest of them could lag behind without causing an international incident, or something.

To one side, Iris was regarding Luna with an earnest expression, like it was taking all of her self-restraint to keep from unleashing a barrage of questions on the princess. Gladio had on his signature look of amusement—reserved especially for whenever one of them was taking the piss out of Noct—apparently approving of Luna’s assessment.

Clearing his throat, Ignis spoke before Noct could recover from Luna’s teasing. “I believe we’re due for luncheon,” he said. “Shall we?” This question he directed down at Prompto, who had to crane his neck back to catch his boyfriend’s tiny smile.

“Baby sandwiches and too many forks? I’m down,” Prompto said. Ignis’ smile broadened, and for a moment it looked like he was going to lean down for a kiss. Then he seemed to realize that everyone was watching them and apparently lost his nerve, reaching up in a nervous gesture to adjust his glasses.

“Yes. Let’s go, then,” he said. To Prompto, he was obviously flustered, but anyone used to Ignis’ prim mannerisms probably wouldn’t have noticed.

Prompto hardly suppressed a grin as Noct pulled out of his loose side-hug and tried to stroll purposefully across the grand foyer. There was a barely perceptible hitch in the prince’s step, but thankfully he’d be getting to sit down soon. Ignis kept his hand on Prompto’s back in that familiar gesture, guiding him in Noct’s wake. Iris bounced along at her brother’s side, hissing something up at him under her breath as Gladio tried to keep close to Noct, and Luna took Ravus’ arm as their guards fell into step behind them.

Luna, Prompto noticed after a moment, was watching him and Ignis. As their eyes met again, she glanced to Ignis, then back to him, and gave him another knowing look, this one warm, accompanied by a smile.  _ Oh. I guess Iggy and me are being pretty obvious, _ he thought. Well, everyone else knew. Why not the princess and future Oracle of Tenebrae? She seemed pleased, her expression conveying what Prompto could only interpret as her happiness for them.

How much did she actually know about Ignis, he wondered? How much did she know about  _ him _ , for that matter? They had interacted only once before, and that had been somewhat one-sided. Noct must have talked about his friends to Luna, though. Once more, Prompto hoped he had a chance to speak with her before all this was over, without a dozen ears all listening in— _ and without making an ass of myself again. _ He still had yet to really thank her for changing his life. Surely without her intervention, he’d never have had any of the opportunities that he’d been given.

“What are you thinking, darling?” Ignis murmured to him, and Prompto started. They were nearly at the dining hall already—he must have spaced out hard on the way there.

“Nothing, really,” Prompto shrugged, “Just spacing out.”

They were walking at the rear of their smaller group, and Prompto could hear voices conversing through the open doors of the dining hall up ahead. This time when he tilted his head back in invitation, Ignis bent down to brush their lips together quickly.

“You’re rather stubborn in your own right, you know,” Ignis said when he pulled back, smirking slightly as Prompto grimaced up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” Prompto said, and Ignis slowed to a stop beside him. Prompto turned to face him, arms folded over his chest. “I just don’t wanna ramble every random thought that pops into my head at you.”

“You’ve never held back before,” Ignis teased, reaching up to neaten a stray lock of Prompto’s hair.

“Mean,” Prompto huffed, but his chest warmed. Then he bit his lip, and admitted, “I was thinking about Lady Lunafreya. I wanted to talk to her, but,” he shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

“She seems fond of you,” Ignis said, tilting his head in an analytical manner that said he was working through a puzzle. “Did you two...know one another somehow? Before all of this?” Ignis asked, gesturing broadly to indicate the conference.

“Kinda?” Prompto said, lifting one foot and tapping the toe of his boot at the black tile beneath their feet. He bent forward slightly, not meeting Ignis’ gaze. “It’s a weird story. I’m pretty sure her dogs have magic powers, y’know? I mean, you’ve met Umbra.”

“Indeed,” Ignis said. Prompto risked a looked up at him, and saw Ignis watching him with a fond expression. “Tell me.” The words were spoken gently enough that Prompto knew they were just a suggestion. He didn’t have to tell Ignis, but he realized he wanted to.

“Okay,” he straightened. “You remember how I told you I was a chubby kid, right?” He ran through the story as quickly as he could, trying to gloss over what a lonely little loser he’d been before he’d found an injured Chibi—Pryna, he learned later—on his way home from school.

His parents hadn’t even known about the little dog, he was pretty sure. They had never mentioned her, though they might have eventually found out if she had just been a regular dog that he was hiding in the house. When Chibi had disappeared he’d been so hurt, worrying endlessly over what had happened to her—until he’d received a letter in the mail from Princess Lunafreya.

That letter had shaken him to the core. A  _ real _ letter from a  _ real _ princess who lived in a far-away castle in a foreign land, asking him to look after Prince Noctis. Prompto had felt like he was in some magical fairy tale, like he’d been chosen for a special purpose and he was obligated to do as the fair lady asked. Maybe in a way that was true—how could Pryna, a tiny little pup with an injured leg, have traveled from Insomnia to Tenebrae unless she had magic powers herself?

This part of the story he also kept to himself for now. Noct was his best friend, and Prompto didn’t want anyone thinking he only hung around the prince because a magical dog had chosen him to do so and then gone to tell her mistress about it. He also didn’t want to be teased for having such fanciful thoughts, thoughts he still wanted to believe in now as an adult. Honestly, the truth probably was that he’d just gotten lucky, stumbling upon Pryna by chance. Then, because he’d helped her, Luna had thought he was worth her time even though they’d never met. It wasn’t worth sharing.

Though if anyone might understand, he thought Ignis would. In a strange way, it was harder to admit to than the barcode on his wrist and the odd circumstances of his adoption. He just wanted to keep believing on some level that he’d been picked out for something important, even if he knew rationally that it wasn’t true.

Ignis, of course, listened without interrupting, watching Prompto with an expectant and patient expression. When Prompto finished, Ignis thumbed at his chin, looking thoughtful.

“I hadn’t ever suspected...well, that,” he said as if he were speaking to himself.

Prompto pressed his lips together, then leaned forward and murmured, “Not the sort of thing that comes up in a background check, huh?”

Ignis barked a startled laugh, and Prompto grinned broadly. “Oh, yes, throw that in my face again,” Ignis said, eyes glittering with amusement. “It’s certainly an interesting connection you have with Her Highness. Does Noctis know?”

Prompto shrugged, “Not unless Luna told him.” He chewed his lower lip for a moment, then asked, “Are you...?”

“Anything personal that you tell me in confidence is just between us, darling,” Ignis told him sincerely, stepping in close as he reached up to cup Prompto’s face in gloved hands. Prompto grasped one of Ignis’ wrists, letting his eyes drift shut as he enjoyed the scent of leather mingled with Ignis’ cologne. Warm lips found his forehead, leaving a lingering kiss there before pressing briefly against his mouth.

“We ought to go get something to eat while we have the chance,” Ignis murmured as he stepped back. “The day is young.”

“Right,” Prompto breathed as Ignis released him. The hours until they could be alone together seemed interminable, but he would just have to bide his time until then.

As they entered the dining hall, he caught Noct’s eye and the prince made a face at him. He winced a moment later, and Prompto’s gaze slid over to Luna, who was sitting right beside the prince. And there were two empty seats to her left.

“Lord Scientia, Crownsguard Argentum,” she called out softly over the hum of conversation, gesturing to her side, “Come sit by me.” A few of her guards who were lined up against a far wall frowned at the thought of their princess sharing a table with servants, but Ignis and the Amicitias were nobility, and Prompto...well, he was somebody who’d gotten lucky.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Rule of Thirds is a photography term that I don't have the wherewithal to explain right now because I'm pretty sure I'm coming down with something. It does have nothing at all to do with this story, it just sounded cool. 
> 
> Also come hang with me on the [tumblr](http://dirtyhecker.tumblr.com/) if you feel so inclined.


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